you can't handle the...ahh, fuck it.

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Gonna take a shotgun shit right now, because, well, when you feel a shotgun shit coming on there's really no holding it back.

The last six months my finances went to hell. I had one unexpected expense that threw me off, and every month it got worse and worse, further behind and further behind. When I say hell, I mean seventh circle. I had to beg and borrow money from friends and strangers just to stay behind. Okay - so all that is caught up now. Everyone is paid back. I just blew through 3 grand in a week. No, I'm not ahead at all. Just caught up.

My house is a money trap, and I bought it from a total prick. It will honestly take me five to ten years to fix the place up right, if I save every extra penny. As it is, I don't want to even have company over.

I have been sick for three straight weeks. First week was bad, very bad. Went to the doctor, he didn't say what it is I had but he gave me five scripts (including Imitrex, finally, and more flomax for my once again enlarged prostate - and I'm 31) that cost me $140. By the weekend I felt better and went to work the following Monday. Got to work and starting shitting every five minutes and puking my guts up. Left work to go to the doctor. For the second time. Doctor says he didn't put me on the right meds, gave me three more scripts. Went to a podunk drugstore that is on my home in order to wait three (3!!!) hours for the fucking drugs. Out sick from work one more week. Next week I go to work Monday through Thursday. Thursday I started with the fever again. By 3 o'clock Friday my fever was 104.4 - yes, that is high. Jaime came home from work early, found me frying and took me to the emergency room. After eight hours of pokes, prods, x-rays, and tests of all kinds - they discover I'm not sick. Okay, so I'm sick, but not with anything they can diagnose. All they could say is I have a virus and there's nothing they can do. They gave me codeine cough syrup and ibufrofen and sent me on my way. As of Sunday night (now) my fever comes and goes, but my sinuses are rattling with green shit and every few minutes I have a coughing fit that wakes the dead. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Jaime has been working her ass off at two jobs because she is too stubborn to quit. Hence, we don't see each other much. When I do see her she is exhausted to the bone and grouchier than a motherfucker. Everything I do gets on her nerves and it basically seems like she hates me most of time. I try to take extra measures to make her life easier, save her time, and hopefully make her a bit happier. I continuously fail.

This weekend I discovered that my wall cabinet/decoration from Pier One has been broken. And this weekend one of my most prized possessions in the world, a framed poster of the George Thorogood CD Born To Be Bad, was busted into a million pieces. One of my two Oddworld: Abe's Oddysee discs has been lost.

Did I mention that I did twenty loads of laundry the last two days? And there are still two more to go?! Or that I have a leak in my water line somewhere, so my water bill is $50 a month now? And I can't afford a plumber? Or that there has been a giant square hole in my drywall in the laundry room for the last month where my dad was trying to find the leak and he has yet to fucking fix it? Or that Christmas is six days away and I've only gotten Jaime one thing and won't be able to afford anything else? Or that my babies Kira and Dagny need to take a trip to the vet (okay, well, all five need their shots).

Fuck. It's midnight. I can't breathe and I'm coughing like crazy and I need to go gather a pillow and a cover so I can go sleep on the couch like a good friend would do so I can get up later this morning and go to work sick, again.

Fuck.

Update 12/20/05 @ 1:14 am - I forgot to mention I'm going to miss Reverend Horton Heat for the third straight time. I don't deserve to call myself a fan.

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