People die. It happens.
I almost got fired for a very stupid reason, but managed to dodge it somehow and am now hinging my hopes on getting a car that’s not mine fixed by Monday, so I can drive to work in a car that’s not leaking oil like an incontinent bladder. Because I could get fired for that, apparently.
And in securing that vehicle, I learned my sister was in the hospital for a septic infection, and they’re moving her to a hospice. She’s got no insurance, and I think the big cahones at the place don’t want no freeloaders taking up valuable beds that rich hemorrhoidal asses could be laying on. I’m conflicted between apathy and seething rage. I’d like to scream obscenities in their faces, or watch some TV and drink a beer. I’m not sure which is in the lead at this point.
I’m too tired for this shit. Tired of this shit? Tired from this shit? Tired old shit. Can the world quit shitting on everything, please? And by the world, I mean people – can people quit shitting on everything, please? Quit all the damned elitist garbage and come down to our level? Sorry, my life’s not perfect. Sorry, other people are in the same cesspool as I am. Sorry, we don’t fit into your perfect little highly organized world. Golly, sorry, we don’t meet your expectations, can’t pay your bills, can’t make our circumstances magically different. Can these elitist pricks apologize to us for once? It wouldn’t change a damned thing, but at least it’d be on the right side of the equation.