This is why I'm trying to finish my book.

I hide up in my room all day because I'm writing my book.  I'm trying to get it to the point where I can have it published so I can start making money from my home.  It's weird, I know.  Especially because I have no prospects of ever having it published.  At least not with my last name as it is right now.  Maybe my current last name will become my pen name.  Whatevs.

I'm frustrated.  I can't do anything.  I can't work outside of my home.  When I spend most of my day cleaning my house that no one else can because a back's been thrown out, another person can't put weight on one leg, another person is getting ready for work and school, and another person is too young to be of any assistance to me.

FML.

Honestly, I'm so sick of my life right now.

Oh,. and a car ran into our house the other day.

And I had to speak in Sacrament Meeting yesterday.  And I've missed SO many activities because I'm either helping a cripple, or I'm too tired from helping a cripple.

I want to move out!!!  I want to have my own place where I can live by myself and work.

But I can't.  How would they survive without me?

And  I can't afford it, either.

Maybe I should take my grandparent's advice and find the first guy I can to elope with.  That would get me out on my own.

Or maybe...

But no.  I've always been too scared to go there.

But maybe in my anger that will change.