How does a person talk about death and problems that arise in a day without sounding like a whiner? Today I learned that my landlord died of cancer, my former almost-stepmother died, my car started to give me problems and my front door will not open. I can't see my fiance again this weekend--and haven't seen him for the past two weeks. My older son came home slamming things around because his job isn't working out to his liking, and my costal chondritia is kicking in big time. I was telling my friend about my day on the telephone tonight, and I realized how much like whining it must sound. So, if I don't want to sound like a whiner, but I have no one else to alk with, and I can't seem to keep it all inside, what do I do to not sound like whiner?

I tried to think of good things, and tried to make the conversation as humrous as possible. I tried to get focused on things that need to get done. I went outside and did some work out there. I just wanted to feel alive and well.

Now, I am tired. Exhausted. I think I will go to bed and just sleep. I tried last night, and I had a horrible dream. I don't remember exactly what it was about, but I know I didn't like it, and I woke up to try to avoid the end. It seems to me I was traavelingin a car in it, and it involved by fiance, but I can't remember much else. Maybe tonight will be better.

I am feeling that I have been a poor role model as a mother. My house is a disaster. Yesterday I cleaned all day. Tonight, I spend 2-1/2 hours patching jeans, then made supper and then washed dishes, and did some little bit of cleaning in between. Yet, if someone were to walk in my houes tonight, they would not believe I'd done any cleaning for the past year. I tried to get my children to help by simply asking, and asking them to just look at the mess--but they all had things they had to do, things they had to get down town for. So it's all left for me.

I want a clean house. I want to say that I'm a good housekeeper. But that will never happen. My dishes are washed. My clothes are washed and folded--but not put away. My bathroom is scrubbed. But right behind my cleaning comes children...adult children...and I just don't know what to do to get them to help.

I tried not cleaning, but they really didn't care. As soon as dishes ran out, they just went to town and brought home takeout food, leaving the paper and plastic silverware wherever they ate. If they have no clothes, they just wash only what they need for the next day. If they need a shower, they will go to another house to take it rather than help me clean the bathroom.

I know that when they were children, I should have been a bit more stern with them. But that's too late now. And now it's too late. So instead I feel like I'm going to go crazy, just trying to keep a little bit of order in this disorder. And, once in a while, I take a break and write. But then, as now, it will be right back to cleaning.

I have had a long day. It isn't often that I get taken out for work purposes, and all day today food was provided. A peer brought in doughnuts. A rep took our department to dinner. And a major customer had supper with our president, a sales assistant and me. I'm not that important a person in the company, but when this customer calls, he talks regularly with me and wanted to meet fact to face. It was a pleasant meal.

And I am tired. But at least I'm not quite as inwardly focused as I usually am, and I am not quite so down in the dumps. This is a good thing.

Now, tomorrow is pay day--and it sure doesn't feel like it. I hope to have enough to go to the movies tomorrow night after I pay bills. We'll see.

I have a headache, but it doesn't hurt. It's just rather irritating. The whole left side of my head, my neck and my shoulder are kind of set apart from myself. It's like someone took all the muscle or tissue in those areas and just kind of made them dissolve. But I know it's a headache waiting to be realized. I try not to feel them, and I can usually forget the pain, but it doesn't necessarily last too long. And I know this one's going to be bad because my stomach isn't much better.

I write this here fore some reason taht I don't know. I just know I want to let it out, to let someone know that it hurts. I always try not to let it hurt, to complain, but these writings allow me to scream into the words, and maybe someone will hear. Maybe not. But that's OK. I just want to stop keeping the pain a secret, and one day I'll learn how to voice it in a way that isn't quite so anonymous as it is in this computer.

Tonight I don't have a focus to write about. I am a bit scattered. My mind jumps from one thing to another, and none of it really comes together.

I feel like I should be focusing on the negatives that result from my childhood, but I don't want to think about it. I want to think only good thoughts, but that seems to be a difficult thing to do, too. It's more like all I think about are facts and I don't want to even think about how I actually feel.

I was kind of restless at work and left a couple hours early. My stomach is like craving to be filled, but not necessarily with food. It just kind of feels hollow, even when I've eaten so much that I feel like I'm going to be sick.

My cat died today. It's been a rough few weeks, but he finally succombed. It's sad for me, but good for him.

I think I'll go to bed and try to get a bit more focused tomorrow.