swim's hands are healing up good... no abcess, swim can maintain her dirty little secret... swim's s.o. saw the tracks on her palms and demanded to know what they were, so swim told him she had been poking herself with needles... which is the truth, just not the whole truth... maybe he knows... he just doesn't want to know... he's caught her shooting up before... just not something he wants to deal with, she guesses... he knows she's an addict, an addict of the worst kind, a hypochondriac who is ill and in need of painkillers, the worst kind of hypochondriac... what's a girl to do? stupid her read on some junke site that it was 'ok' to shoot ms contins, now she finds out they're filled with wax... no high again today... just enough pills doled out by her s.o. to dull the pain... god, she hopes he left them out...he's left for work already... and she didn't even wish him a happy birthday... his own fault for being resentful and angry at her for being awake at this hour of the morn, when she doesn't HAVE TO be 5am est. argghhhhhno one to talk to in this middle class neighbourhood... maybe swim should go 'slumming'... s.o. will be pissed tho, if she brings home anymore low life friends - unless of course they're good-looking, somehow that makes up for their behaviour... swim could do anything when she still had her youth and beauty... if the s.o. of the day didn't like it, so what? there were lots of fish in the sea back then... guess there still are... but after 8 years of relative security, swim is afraid to let go... she knows how fast she'll get into debt, it's happened before...another ice cream morning spent watching Evita and passing the time wondering whether or not to call again.... will have to wait another 6 or so hours until 'buddy' is up and at it. why can't all days be good days? why does swim feel so crappy all the time? why can't she feel better without doping?again.... such is life.