As if losing Liz weren't already too much (and it is), here are a few other great hunks of shit life has thrown at me this week:
- I went to help Jen move this weekend. Just after I got there, her mother's dick of a fucking boyfriend decides to hit my car with his, leaving some nice scrapes along the front of my car. He says he had the brakes on and it just rolled into my car. I say he's a fucking douche.
- Later, while still helping Jen move I twisted my ankle, just barely escaping tearing the ligament like I did back in my baseball days. I had stepped on the edge of a concrete piece and would have fallen on my face on the concrete if I didn't grab the truck that happened to be right next to me.
- In trying to grieve the best way I know how, I've spent a good $300 - $500 in bar tabs since Wednesday. I admit it's my fault, but it still fucking sucks. And I spent most of those hours being extra quiet and keeping to myself. So now all the other locals think I'm a psychotic loser. And they're probably right.
- My cough still isn't going away. I very well may have to go back in soon to get a chest x-ray or two. More medical bills. Yay.
- I haven't been getting much sleep at all lately. Too much to think about; too much to do. I've been eating more than usual, and I still don't seem to have enough energy to keep doing my pushups and all that other stretching shit I usually do.
- Less than twenty minutes ago, I got a message from a girl I've actually been really interested in. We went out a few weeks back and I think it went really well. A promising dating partner; something seemingly rare for me. (Due to scheduling conflicts and medical issues, we've been having difficulty planning a second date) ... So in her message tonight she informs me that she started seeing someone else this last week, but still wants to be friends with me. As I told her, "I find it funny how life likes to shit on you from all different angles at the same time, you know?".
So there's that. Maybe I'll get fired tomorrow for being a whiny bitch or something, who knows. Maybe someone at Arby's will jerk off into my turkey sub. Perhaps a co-worker will try to ass-rape me with a heavy-duty stapler. A head-on collision during my two-block commute? Will I get evicted because the people in the apartment above me don't want to live over a puddle of shit anymore? At this point, I'm not going to rule out any possibility.
Tune in tomorrow to find out what else goes wrong...