Black Sunday

Depressing ventilation post

I don't like Sundays, especially this one. The entire world turns its attention to a contest I couldn't give two shits about; It's kind of like Christmas for jews.

Maybe it's the fact that I am coming down from my meds. Maybe it's the 48 hour virus. Whatever it is, I'm scrapping the bottom.

I work at a job that I am shackled to because of my weight and my lack of initiative. I work like a dog, but, after I meet my obligations, I don't have enough money to buy a new shirt or shoes.

My co-workers praise me left and right, then they give me shit when I can't do everything that they want me to do as quickly as they want me to do it.

I love strong women, but I can't deal with their laundry list of demands without being demoralized.

People reject me eventually for the same reasons they accept me initially.

On top of all that, it seems as though my people are in the dark ages. ("We can't be led by anyone who is not a Christian"; "I don't want the Bears to win the Super Bowl because Lovie Smith is married to a white woman.")

I don't know how to end this post; I only know that I needed to release.

Thanks for reading.