Can't Sleep

Alright, it's almost three in the morning the day of Motorhead. I am excited, yes but I just can't sleep. I have to wake up in 4 hours to claim my hours for unemployment so I can get paid this week. I am broke as fuck and have like twenty dollars in the bank. My father of course is bitching about how broke he is because the man has bought three half ounces of weed in the past two weeks. He also owes me $25 from the other day that I will never see of course. I never see any money he owes me. But he will go into full martyr mode tomorrow about how much he spent on gas to go to Tampa and back. My father is quite simply a drug addict craving validation in life, it's so sad. I am going to get Cynthia to ask him what his favorite Motorhead song is tomorrow in front of a large crowd of people so I can expose him as the tool that he is. He literally doesn't know any song aside from "Ace of Spades" but speaks about them as if they're his favorite band. But because he spent 15 dollars on two stickers that put the Motorhead logo on his cell phone he will be the biggest fan there guaranteed. That phone will come out of its holster no less than 25 times today to show people who will smile and say 'cool' so he will potentially shut up. Hell given the chance to meet Lemmy, he might also pull it out to show him and be like "I've been your biggest fan for thirty years now!" He always goes on to tell us that they're just normal people etc. yet he's the one who gets all excited and childish when he meets a band member and then speaks to others like they are peasants for not meeting that person. He has asked me no less than fifteen times who is opening the show tomorrow. I guess he thinks I'll change it up and fuck him up even more. The man is undeniably crazy. Fuck, I cannot wait until the day that I don't have to live with him anymore. Only a few more months until I regain most of my sanity. I hate having to cater to his needs and how he expects to see me sitting on the couch next to him with a big smile on my face waiting to eat all of the nonsense that he tells me up with joy. Alright, I've got a wicked stomach ache and a headache as well. I better not be getting some kind of sick. I'm out.