I resent needing a break and feel guilty when i take it, like the whole house will crumble into dust if i'm not holding it together, i know it won't but i can feel the dust on my skin already, itching and settling in the place where i used to be. Chris says 'relax, i got it' and i want to scream because he doesn't get it, it's not about doing it's about…knowing it all, preempting the needs before they're even voiced, and i can't teach that and i'm so tired of it all, the folding laundry, the remembering birthdays, the dentist appointments, the endless requests for snacks. i think that's why i liked painting, you just…make something and it is what it is, you don't have to tend it or cajole it or worry about it growing into a functional human, maybe i need to go buy some canvases and just light them all on fire, that's not a joke chris, not a joke.