It's 5 am, Wed. morning. I just got up. I didn't want to, but I did it anyway. I've got my coffee, a whole fresh brewed pot. But it doesn't taste as good as usual. I should be getting ready for work. But I don't want to.
I am exhausted.
I've been leaving the house at 6 am, to get in as much daylight on the mural job as possible. Because by about 2 in the afternoon, the sun starts beating down on the side of that building and it becomes unbearable.
Then, I come home and work on in house jobs. Aside from actually cleaning my own house. I have a project here for a designer. I'm doing my best to get it done. But it's technical, and I'm brain fried.
I was planning on working on the mural until about 7 or 8 tonight. But I got a call from a short term residential respite home about DQ. We have to be there at 5 for an assessment. No telling if they will take her. I'm praying they do.
I haven't had a good nights sleep in about a year. I recall when she was hospitalized, sleeping like the dead for 10 or more hours. Because finally, someone else was responsible for her. And I knew she couldn't hurt anyone here. Or destroy my stuff. Or run away. I could finally relax. And when that happens, I pass the fuck out.
I'm waiting for other calls to come. The one that will start the ball rolling on a long term residential placement. I'm hoping they can teach her independent living skills, and normalize her social skills. Otherwise, this kid is gonna be screwed when she ages out.
Yes, I'm tired. Work, work, work. Come home and fight, fix and mediate. Go to bed and sleep with one eye open and my ears always listening.