Saying Something Stupid
January 9, 1998
The boys and Will are outside changing the oil in the car. I'm in here sneaking a cigarette. Yuck. I want to quit, but quitting seems to be adding to this depressing way I've been feeling. It's probably the winter blahs because I really don't have anything to complain about.
My smoking I don't like. I get lonely around here sometimes, but instead of being happy when Will comes home, I usually end up saying something stupid. He has been very helpful and loving. He took care of the kids Sunday when I was the sickest. He has overlooked a hundred things I've only done half-way.
I want to go to the doctor and talk about how I've been feeling, but the $10 co-pay doesn't seem justified. Maybe I should talk to Will about it on the way to his dad's today - I don't know.
I love my boys but I feel like I'm not doing it right. I love Will, but feel the same way. I should write to [my sister] too. I miss her.
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