I haven’t been feeling well these past few
days. Bearing these ills with patience and longsuffering, wretch that I am, is no easy task. I’m not looking for sympathy, just
an ear. Why has food become such an
enemy? I don’t deserve to be obese and
have type 2 diabetes. Anyway, I’ve run
out of insulin and the pharmacy won’t be open until Monday. My liquor cabinet has been empty for days and
I don’t have money to restock it because I basically torpedoed my family's financial security at the casino last Thursday. Worst
of all, my meth lab exploded yesterday and ruined the entire basement. Fortunately the wife and kids were out of
town at the time, as I had sent them to my parents' house with explicit instructions on how to play on their guilt for some cash. To add insult to
injury, the strip club down the street closed down. That was my only recreation in life. Really?
Am I really reduced to looking up call girls in my little black
book? Yes, unfortunately. It's not easy to endure this suffering with a quiet heart. I cry out to you, O Lord, but you do not
answer me. Oh well. At least I haven’t broken out in boils from
head to foot.
