Well, so much for turning water into wine. It's a hopeless situation. I haven't left the apartment for three days. I'm exhausted and wide awake. A continual state of severe panic is interspersed with attacks of razor-blade anxiety.
Every muscle aches.
My sense of humor is running on fumes. I'm growing fur. Thought quite a lot more about hitting myself over the head with a hammer today. The tapioca pudding is gone . This was a very bad idea, because I don't usually smoke pot, and once I did, I became indescribably scared of everything, and really paranoid, and spent half an hour walking between the kitchen and the front door, checking the burners on the stove to make sure they were off all the way.