Dear Roger, Picking the Scabs of My Hearts Implosion

Well its another fucked up windy day and I want a damn smoke so bad that I stood in Silver Saddle talking to the gals for 15 minutes just debating buying a pack hoping that one of them would need a smoke break so I could bum one off of them and kill the beast that is gnawing at me and trying to get me to break down and just give in. I have smoked in over 15 years, but I WANT to, of course I also want to get laid and have a beer, but none of that is going to happen, so I am trying to reason with myself that if one is not going to happen, why should I let any of the rest it? I have a very weird mind, and I really blame you for much of that, but if I was a linear thinker and everything had stayed black and white,I would be pretty freaking boring wouldn't I?
I went to bed at a reasonable hour last night, reasonable being 1240, vs my normal 2-3 or even 4 am, and I do not get why the HELL I am so much more tired today! Insomnia is a very cruel master and what really stinks, is that it chooses not to show up on nights when there is someone or something that I want to watch on late night tv. A good looking hottie like Kellan Lutz gonna be on Craig Ferguson? On well hell, lets put her ass out right as he walks onstage! DAMMIT!! My nights are complicated affairs, I have some dreams, and the kids tell me that I have started talking in my sleep,NOT GOOD! I talk to people from my past, people I miss and Stubby tells me that I have woken him up clear down the hall, crying in my sleep, and that weirds me out because I am not a crier, I am more of a yeller and a rager, but he said that he turned the tv up and I quit and turned over and went back to sleep. I always have music or a tv or something on at night, its just too depressing to listen to nothing but the wind or the creaking of the house at night, though I have had to get more selective what I fall asleep listening to, otherwise I wake up in a funk or a weird mood the next day.
My hair is finally growing back out. I am hoping like hell that no one else dies anytime soon so that I can get it long again because my face has gotten too damn thin to have short hair, and it just sends the wrong message to be a middle-aged, skinny assed chick wearing black and boots and such in this town. I have never been a delicate flower of feminity, more like a woman that runs with wolves and knows what she wants, but up here in the land of San Fransisco east, that just sends the wrong message and guys seem to think that I bat for the other team, I wouldnt care so much but I really would like to find a ,'Friend", though I think the East side of Flag is probably the wrong place to be looking, just because its full of marrieds, OLD, or just yech! I keep looking at the young uns, meaning the 20 somethings, and while that is the popular thing with women my age, the one I dated for awhile was a bit tiresome, so I would have to be kinda picky I guess. I need a job, a hobby and a life, but I wish all of it were away from here, but I am going to have to settle for the slim pickings that I can glean from the surrounding area, so I am thinking that I will take my big ole slobber dog with me next time I go out on my own and I will try my best to play the semi-helpless female with the too big dog that needs help. The gals at the store assured me that the boys downtown or at the dog park would eat that up and I might actually find something worth dragging home other than poo on my boot, as long as Fergus doesnt try to eat him. My only problem is, I am about as capable at playing helpless as I am playing Barbie, so that attempt may be doomed to failure.