
My loathing for insomnia is rivaled only by my self-loathing when I have insomnia.

When I moved into this apartment, it almost doubled my monthly rent. I viewed it as an investment in myself. A chance to prove to myself (and anyone who cared to challenge me) that I could do this. That I could come home to an empty space every night. That I could keep it together. And I did.

It was just a TIA or mini-stroke and he’s recovering exceptionally well according to his doctors, but I’m not quite done with my Dad yet. I need him to stick around at least a little while longer.