I'D SAY I HATE BEING AT HOME BUT I JUST DON'T GIVE A FUCK

I can count the number of times I've left the house on one hand. I went to knit night, for a Christmas tree, to the Christmas Eve church service, to spend an hour and a half curling, to play board games with a friend's friends, and downtown. Wait, that's actually six outings. Good for me, I broke 5. That's not quite a relief.

To be honest, I haven't wanted to do anything but sit and watch teevee and knit, for almost a month now.

My father gave me roving, and I spun about 150 yards of yarn, and then knit a pair of fingerless gloves. The yarn was shitty--a 2-ply, only I didn't ply it very well at all, so it was more like knitting with two 1-ply yarns held together than one 2-ply yarn. I also knit a sock, to complete a pair, and I have three fingers, well, and a half, left on the first of my brother's gloves. I won't see him until I'm back at school, and to be honest, they're boring as fuck, so I've been taking a break.

I don't like feeling like this.

I keep trying to get up earlier without going to sleep earlier. I have to get up and go downstairs so my mother won't accuse me of sleeping all day to avoid being part of the family, but, you know, then I just sleep on the couch. And knit. And watch teevee. I'm exhausted all the time. I don't want to do anything. I almost didn't go out on New Year's, but I did. I only complained about a third of the time, unlike last year when I complained more like three-quarters of the time. So that's an improvement. My sister and I still left at 11, and came home to find my parents watching some odd movie. We turned the computer over to regular television at 11:58 and watched the ball drop, then turned it back to their movie at 12:01. Woo. Exciting. But I didn't want to be watching people get drunk. Or watching people watch people get drunk. They're not even people I particularly like when they're sober. And then we went home.

I was supposed to see Jack over break, but when she texted me, I blew her off. Twice. She's leaving Tuesday, Sunday's her birthday, and I'm busy on Monday. I'm a great person. She even emailed, saying please don't just blow her off, but, you know. That's just me.

Anyway. Just a lovely, interesting little snippet about my break. I'd say I don't want to be here anymore, but I don't want to do anything else.

It's 6:21. I know I should be sleeping. I'm lying to myself when I think I should get up by 11:30. I don't want to go to bed. I don't want to be in the dark.