I hate cold floors and oatmeal

I've decided to give this blog thing another try. Seeing as I have far too many friends and judemental family on my Facebook and Twitter accounts, I'm about to begin my personal existential psychotherapy, on myself (haha), here. Where not many "followers" will know me personally and run into me at the mall.

I woke up on the Stearns Coundty jail floor this morning, for the second time in six months. Four times locked up in the last nine. I thought I was better than this.... Surrounded by druggies, foreigners, and first-timers I still consider myself the "normal" one. But who am I kidding. Today, all I see is emptiness. And considering it was drinking that got me into all this mess... all I want is a shot. Really, I want ten of them. Then I just want to lock the door of my bedroom and sleep for an entire year. Will it be over then? Will I have slept through my upcoming punishment?

Now I get "whiskey plates" and another ten thousand dollar fine to add to the drinking and driving fund. I know people who go their whole lives drunk... their whole lives driving into ditches... their whole lives free and clear from punishment. I resent those people. I fear I resent everyone today. I will break up with my boyfriend. I will tell my family not to call. I will refuse to see my friends. Today, I will be ALONE.