There are ants in my Cap'n Crunch.

So much for breakfast.

Living in this dump is getting to me, really. I can't eat at home because I can't stand my kitchen. Last night as I was lying in bed, wide awake, I saw an ant scurry across my sheet by my pillow.

Bugs will drive you nuts, let me tell you. We have got to clean this place up. Which means I have to do it. Because that's how it works. Nobody likes it, but nobody cares enough to take action. I care, but I feel like the task of cleaning is completely impossible because I know no one will help me. I hate feeling alienated by my own house.

Well, screw it. I just filled a bag with junk from my floor and I can actually see a difference, so perhaps there's hope. I wonder if anyone in the house owns a vacuum cleaner. I'm the only one with a rug, so probably not, I guess. Still. I've got to organize or I'm going to go crazy.

I'll go do that, then.