It is early morning, about 3:30. I have spent the last two hours, though completely exhausted, drifting vaguely between consciousness and a sort of muzzy near-sleep. The heat is oppressive and sweat clings to me, and no matter where I lie my head, the echoes of my roommate playing what I think is Family Guy (loudly enough that when I visit the bathroom I can hear it at what seems to me to be reasonable to loud listening volume through two closed doors) mumble to me and keep me from sleep. I reached a point at which I became awake again. It was as though my exhaustion, sensing that it was not going to be satisfied, gave up and stopped acting on my system. I am literally sick to my stomach with exhaustion alone, exacerbated by frustration and rage. For a while I had an unsettling sensation of falling over. Trick of the ears, I think.
I need to get out of this house. I think I am going insane.
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