2004-10-13 - 10:54 a.m.

Let's see what's in the old mailbag today.... I was walking to work this morning because I've decided I'm going to start walking to work again for two reasons:

  1. I think it will get me to work faster, which means more sleep
  2. I told someone I met on an internet dating site that I enjoy walking and that I walk to work, so I figured I didn't want to make myself a liar.

As I'm walking to work, the most obnoxious person on the face of the earth walks past me. He is one of these tall guys with perfect hair and cargo pants that have no wrinkles and he wears a fleece. A fleece, goddamnit! What a fucking asshole! I just wanted to kick his teeth in for being a shallow fucker!

Oh, wait... I was wearing a fleece this morning, too. Man, those things are comfy.

Sometimes I think I'm too judgmental and too mean-spirited. Then some punk in an SUV nearly runs me down in an intersection while yapping on her cell phone about how yesterday the receptionist wore the same dress as her and how she just wanted to die. Then I get all angry again.

I should be more forgiving of people, especially the "beautiful people" who look down on me because my pants never fit exactly as they should and I can never get my hair into the precisely required position and because I'm not always fucking happy. But it is just so hard to be tolerant of these people with their perfect clothes that look like they've just been ironed and their perfect, stain-free teeth. Feh.


Anyway, I just need to vent, I think.

I packed my lunch this morning as a cost-cutting exercise, but I'm worried I'll end up buying food anyway. I mean, anything I can pack is going to be so boring compared to what I can buy for just a few dollars more. Yummy pizza or pasta romana, General Gau's chicken, delicious enchiladas or burritos... oh, my...

Not much else to report besides dating sucks. It really, really sucks. This is the last time I try it. I'm just going to resign myself to being forever single.

And I'm getting too old to be so fucking angry. I'm turning into one of those fucks who I complain about endlessly because of their pathetic, little, self-involved lives. I mean, what could be more self-involved than this? Bitching about someone because their pants don't have wrinkles in them? Damn... if I were reading this, I would want to kick my teeth in for being such a shallow fucker...

I think this is what James Joyce would call an epiphany.

Starting tomorrow, I will be more up-beat. Assuming the aliens haven't gotten here, yet.

What else... I haven't been writing lately. I think I'm overwhelmed at the talent of others. How could I ever hope to be in the same league as Joyce and Chekhov and Gogol and Kafka and Carver... I think the next story I write will be a horror story in honor of Halloween and the fact that I love horror stories and the fact that no one has very high expectations for them so it will be easy for me to meet them.

Sox lost last night. What else is new? The only reason I thought that they would win is that the defeat at the hands of the Yankees would be all the more crushing if we won the first three games of the series and then lose the last four, each time in extra innings. Man, the Red Sox are a poet's dream.

I'm just rambling now... All I can say is I'm serious about being more positive and upbeat. Don't expect miracles, though. I'm still a very vile and heartless person. I'm just going to be a more upbeat, heartless person. I'm going to shift all of that negative energy into my plan to reform the human genome so that people sweat coffee. I think that will save me a lot of money if I could just sweat into a cup instead of running to Dunkin Donuts.

So, what other horrible, twisted dreams should I focus on instead of being angry all the time?


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