I had to tell about 20 people today that they were going to be out of work soon.
And it makes me want to puke. The only thing keeping me from feeling really bad is that I am in the same boat as everyone I was talking to today.
That’s scant – it’s scant SOMETHING. But I’ve been drinking Bombay Sapphire and typing very carefully.
But really…in real life…I want to fucking kill someone.
Smile, motherfuckers. smile.
I am in my kitchen and I’m crying harder than I’ve cried in many years. Maybe it’s the Bombay Sapphire, or maybe it’s just god damn human emotion, but I’m low down, man. I hear my dog walking into the room and I think, “well, there’s my dog, he can tell I’m fucked up,” but he just walks out through the doggy door.
As he should.
Listen man, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.