What to do.

I don't understand why I always have too much to do.  I want a job.  I want to get out of this place.  But there's too much to do.  Dad's apartment is going to be inspected in one month.  I don't know how the hell I'm going to get everything done by then.  And I don't know how we're going to eat if I don't get a job.  But if he fails the inspection, he'll lose his home.  It's so much pressure.  And I don't know what the right thing to do is.  I am so overwhelmed.  I just want to run away.  And I wonder, how was Dad planning on passing inspection before I showed up?  I figure cleaning it all up is my rent and I don't think it's unfair.  But it's really annoying that Jake and I have to find some place else to be on inspection day.  As if we have any place else to go!  We wouldn't be here if we did.  I guess we'll just have to stay at the park like homeless people for the day.  At least we're not in Phoenix, that would be miserable.
I don't know what to do.  I can't believe how bad this place is.  Grandma is coming over for the first time tomorrow...  (Today) I'm terrified.  She's not going to understand how much cleaner it is now than it was when I got here.  It's still filthy.  How am I ever going to get it all done and how am I going to support my kid while I'm cleaning it all up?
Life was supposed to be easier now but it's harder instead.  I hate him so much.  He's in Vegas as if he doesn't even have kids and I'm the one struggling.  Why do I have to be a parent when he doesn't?  Maybe that's the answer.  Maybe I should just say fuck it all and leave and go do what I want to do and stop worrying about how to make everything work and just get spun.  Maybe then I could breath and maybe my stomach wouldn't be twisted up and maybe my chest wouldn't be on fire and I wouldn't be crying and everything would be better for me for as long as I could stay high.  And maybe I could just stay high until I die.  Maybe it's time to stop being selfless.  It's never gotten me anywhere.  It's gotten everyone around me what they wanted and left me with nothing again and again.  .....
I only used meth in this city one time.  Is it a coincidence that it was on this street? The house isn't there anymore, they built a new one in it's place.  From Dad's front yard, I can see my old apartment.  The last place I was ever spun.  I hate being here.  Why does it have to be here of all places?  At least Uncle Ricky is gone, I wouldn't be able to cope if he were still there.  I don't want to get high...  do I?