so, 10 smoke free days, ten pounds lighter thanks to no food after 4 PM, blood shot eyes, receding hairline, bed sores on my ass and thighs, build up of man stuffs from complete lack of energy, desire and time to fire off a flare or two and I am nearly dead from it all.
I've been stumbling around like a drunk for two days. Coherent thoughts are long gone, my clients are noticing my inability to speak in complete sentences and the whole forgot my pants incident is going to hurt business (except for that one client who seemed rather pleased - didn't know the guys dug little floogin's)
Empty home. Nobody home. No wife. No kids. No brain in my skull. Nobody home.
Wake up, sun down. Go home, sun down. Does the sun still rise?
No.
Back to the wall, nearly done. New piles of shit appear. Still need to handle my own shit. Pay my own bill. Random surprise clients sure to show up tomorrow.
Perhaps, this close, death is still an option.
Perhaps.
Did I pay the insurance premium?
Fuck
It
All
or not.
Might celebrate in a day or two.
Celebrate in an orgiastic party of sleep.
If I make it
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7 comments:
"whole forgot my pants incident is going to hurt business (except for that one client who seemed rather pleased - didn't know the guys dug little floogin's)"
Did I miss a blog somewhere? This story seems blog worthy.
Good luck Floogin sounds like you are going to need it.
It's all good buddy!! Just hang in there!! You'll make it!
Trent :-)
You didn't miss it. It's the posting before this one. The one with the all the pictures
So why is it, I do next to fuck all close to what you do in a day, yet I feel the same way?
Perhaps I need to extend this years hibernation by another 30 days.There's still too much mama bear in me ready to attack.
Thanks T.
Think I might reward myself after this is over. Sleep until 8 tomorrow morning. Abduct and torture a vagrant.
Typical end of season stuff.
Crushed Ice, you're just smaller than me. Ergo, it takes less too tire you out.
Floogin..don't make me test that theory of yours.
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