Tonight I'm goin to bed early

I think every night. And then, when I think "okay enough painting and audio book listening for one evening" and look at the time it's fucking three in the fucking morning again! And when I go to get ready for bed I realize that I forgot the last of the dishes I said I'd do and I accidentally make a lot of noise and one of the people I live with is really easily woken up and I know they'll be disappointed in the morning because there's still dishes and I feel like absolute crap. I don't want to start doing dishes at three in the morning even if it is Saturday. I brush my teeth and go to bed feeling like the failure that I am.

And I still feel bad about a character in a book that died and I feel like I'm trying to make up for a lifetime of painting with acrylics in just a few days with drying oil paintings on every surface I can find. And I'm painting on everything, peices of cardboard, old paper bags, card stock, everything with a surface. And it's bad. Most of my paintings are crap. I know it's a step towards getting less crappy but it's frustrating to see amazing artists make better things than I can ever hope to make and never get any recognition, and to see people who can't paint for shit get rich. I know it's just my opinion but yeah. I guess most artists have opinions on art. Whatever. My infantile crap is going up on the art blog along with the doll that I'm actually really happy with. 

Anyways my throat hurts why does it do that I wish it would stop. I wish I was not stupid from withdrawal. I wish my sleep schedule would stop being fucked up. I wish I was... Happy?