The Job Interview

Today I go in for another job interview.

I don't know what to write. I feel strangely. I feel as though I shouldn't even bother going. What happens if I lose this job too? What happens if I start laughing randomly or have another attack?

I should go just for practice. People aren't evil. Going outside is not bad.

It isn't like it's a choice... do I want to be homeless? I need to have savings.

And this job is low stress.

My grandma sent me a bottle of fennel to ease the issue, and I rubbed it on my chest this morning. I smell as if I've been running around the woods. It made me smile. I mean, of course fennel isn't going to get rid of my problems, cast out the "demons," but it's the thought that counts.

I want to go home. There's a long list of reasons why I can't. It was all his genius.

Honestly, I haven't had any issues since we threw out the bottle of concerta. My doctor was weary of why I had it. It was my fault. I asked for it.

No shadows since.

I mean, I've had the usual commentary from the universe. A star told me it was leading me the other night intuitively, and I was cheery and skipped along the street like I do. I regress.

Simple things are difficult for me now. I'm making low Bs, so I need that. I need to be special, or I think I'll destroy myself. People are already trying to manipulate me with my disorder, relatives included, as always.