Still in crapland.

I can't even be bothered now to find space for stuff on the floor, tonight there was a heap of stuff on my bed and I just climbed in, some stuff fell on the floor, some stuff stayed on the bed so it may as well stay there now. The chaos around me reflects the turmoil in my head and my external environment is no worse than my internal environment.

I still don't have a bathroom, today was the start of the third week like this. I wash using baby wipes, but I feel pretty grubby. I have more surplus body hair than a female soviet shot-put champion circa 1980, this is compounded by the steroids I'm taking right now

Don't waste any sympathy on me, I don't deserve it, all of my troubles are self inflicted, if I was more reliable and conscientious then I wouldn't have let my house get in such a mess that it takes over 2 weeks to refit the bathroom.

It was really cold and wet here today, I had to spend the whole day out as the builders had laid a new floor which needed to set. I got in around 6pm and the floor still hadn't set and there was no gas for the central heating. It took me 30 minutes to figure out that the builders had turned the gas off and forgotten to put it back on. It took about another hour to figure out how to re-light the pilot light. All I had to do was press a button with a picture of a flame on it, how hard could that be?

I'm cold, I'm damp, I'm sleeping surrounded by garbage, yet I have a home, I've only myself to blame. I'm pathetic, despicable.

How is it possible to be too tired to care but at the same time be full of self loathing?