The Misanthrope

I'm numb. Absolutely dead from the neck down. The neck down. No, wait... nope, actually the head's dead, too. It's all dead, baby. How did I manage to get through this day? Or the day before? Two freakishly insane days at work and it's not even Black Friday yet. Seven hours non-stop on my feet and I feel as if I've just been beaten repeatedly with a stick. I don't even remember the car ride home, or the feel of the steering wheel in my hands. Ahhhh..... {{{bangbangbang}}} I can't even feel the keyboard under my fingertips. People told me all day today that I was nuts for busting my ass so hard over so little in return. I suppose I am. But at least my boss saw me busting my ass all day. May this all pay off in the end come January. And what nobody else there knows won't hurt 'em.

I don't want to go lay down because I know I'll just zone right out and I'll never fall asleep tonight at a humane hour (which these days is about 4 in the morning). It's Saturday and all my favorite music communities are dead. Razzafrakkin' people with their... their lives and shit. Not like I have the energy to carry my ass out of the house at this present state. I wonder if S. is home. Maybe she'll wanna go do coffee or tea or something.

I was gonna say something else but I forgot it already. Man, my head really is dead. My everything hurts.