Flayla is fast asleep and snoring. I toss and turn – lightly, so as not to wake her.
I’m tired – and I’m angry. I feel so helpless to solve this problem. I actually got into a huge fight with my parents about it – frustrated with what I thought was their unhelpfulness. Now I’m staring out the window in the middle of the night really mad about the fact I can’t do anything about the lawn. Who am I?
What’s gotten into me?
The longer I stay up, the darker my thoughts become.