Too drunk to fuck
Well, was.
The streets of Old Town Pas and someone's Skechers are due apologies from last night. Surfer On Acid, my stomach, and low tolerance are sorry a million times over.
Convention of Robert's life # 78: Prolonging having to do anything stressful, only to avoid and build up stress until it engulfs me like a cloud.
I can't concentrate here. It's not just delirium creeping in, as I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD these walls are honing in on me, hoping to smash me flat and lick up the MSG residue in my blood that will flow from my lifeless carcass. The only thing good that's come out of this job is that I get to see my cousins more, I get paid ridiculous wage considering the amount of grunt work I do ("grunt" as in the sound I make as I stretch out on the couch and take 2-hour naps), and each week, I'm met with more and more insight as to just how deep the rabbit-hole goes in my paternal family's fucked-upness. That last one will prove to be beneficial, as I learn eventually to expect less and less out of my dad's side and curtail all potential disappointment.
I have a Milton paper due on Monday, and two more science papers due this week. I went to the Borders at the mall to get a book for my geography class, only to have it completely out of stock. For a second, I stood there, arms akimbo, my mind in a daze as I justified in my head the fact that I no longer needed to write this paper because the book I needed was unavailable.
"At least I tried," I drooled.
What the hell am I doing? After I take a really good dump, finish off my ice tea, and finish watching the Indiana Jones trilogy, I will really start on this paper.
Sugar, we're going down. Suh-winging.
The streets of Old Town Pas and someone's Skechers are due apologies from last night. Surfer On Acid, my stomach, and low tolerance are sorry a million times over.
Convention of Robert's life # 78: Prolonging having to do anything stressful, only to avoid and build up stress until it engulfs me like a cloud.
I can't concentrate here. It's not just delirium creeping in, as I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD these walls are honing in on me, hoping to smash me flat and lick up the MSG residue in my blood that will flow from my lifeless carcass. The only thing good that's come out of this job is that I get to see my cousins more, I get paid ridiculous wage considering the amount of grunt work I do ("grunt" as in the sound I make as I stretch out on the couch and take 2-hour naps), and each week, I'm met with more and more insight as to just how deep the rabbit-hole goes in my paternal family's fucked-upness. That last one will prove to be beneficial, as I learn eventually to expect less and less out of my dad's side and curtail all potential disappointment.
I have a Milton paper due on Monday, and two more science papers due this week. I went to the Borders at the mall to get a book for my geography class, only to have it completely out of stock. For a second, I stood there, arms akimbo, my mind in a daze as I justified in my head the fact that I no longer needed to write this paper because the book I needed was unavailable.
"At least I tried," I drooled.
What the hell am I doing? After I take a really good dump, finish off my ice tea, and finish watching the Indiana Jones trilogy, I will really start on this paper.
Sugar, we're going down. Suh-winging.
posted by 99thdream at 1:36 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home