smile

weekends are sleepy. but there has been construction in my house. new floor, new patio doors, new front door, new furniture. it's chaos and loudness. the floor is nowhere near done and the men are on a break now. they need to finish ... they don't need a break. i feel like i'm a creature of consistancy. i have a routine, i do things in a similar fashion everyday. saying that sounds boring, but if my life can't be controlled and calm at home, it can't be happy anywhere else.

my house itself is big. from the outside it's very big, but it's old and there are lots of rooms, and lots of doors. it's crampt and *could be considered cozy, but its not. my mum doesn't hang pictures on the wall, all the paint colours are muted and boring. there's tan, then beige, then seafoam green, then pale green, then brown. those are the only paint colours ... except of course for white. i'm so sick of it.

my life is just barely hanging together, i am so stressed, and pressured and unhappy. i don't know what to do with myself. in a few hours i must go to work, and smile and pretend like everything is fine. that's what i do when i leave the house. i smile. i'm compassionate to people i want to strangle, and smile at people who are rude. i walk on the sidewalk, and people look at me. and when i talk to people, i smile. it's a fake happiness, i don't want to smile. i want to crawl into my bed and never get out. but i will smile. just like i do always.