ShagmoorLounge

April 13, 2006

My life lately: Get up and power down a protein shake. Check email. Delete the endless stream of shit inviting me to join Friendster and MySpace. Delete the endless stream of shit inviting me to try new features for websters. Sift through email to see if there's even one legit piece. Usually not. Check the phone. Sift through the messages to see if there's anything to which I should bother responding. Usually there isn't.

Take a piss and a shower. Get dressed. Call my wife. Sit down and get to work. Work, work, then work some more. My wife usually calls me after about 4 or 5 hours of work. I go out, grab some grub, run by the house. It's a disaster. I probably have to fire someone and deal with some asshole's unnecessary bullshit. Deal with it. Handle it. Make it right.

Go back to the cave. Work, work, and work some more. My wife will usually call around this time and ask me if I've eaten lately. I'll say no. Then she lectures me a little, or commands me to come and get her. I pick her up or she comes around. We eat together and then either go back to her place or the cave and spend quality time together. Sometimes she spends the night. I never do.

Every day is some variation of the above. Sometimes a monkey throws a wrench into the cog and it all fucks up. Today it was that my mom called to leave a long ass fucking message that my dad has been cheating on her and she's kicked his ass out for about the 100th time and she would like to see me and know that I'm okay.

This is the routine I have with my mom. She's a weakling. She knows it. She knows I can't stand it. This is her way of saying, Sorry I'm such a weak, pathetic bag of bones. Your dad did it to me again. I sent him away. Will you come by and be my friend so I can feel like at least I have my son who will always love me and take care of me when all else fails?

No. No, Ma'am. I will not. It's bullshit and it's pathetic and I don't have to watch this shit. I don't have to participate in her pathetic self-inflicted pain drama. No, thanks. Got a whole lotta bullshit of my own to keep me occupied.

I don't understand the woman. She's not bad looking for her age. She's got skills. She makes pretty good bank at her job. She's got her little circle of lady friends. What's her fucking problem? How come she can't ditch that sack of shit she married and go get herself a new dick to ride? And what the fuck does she want from me? Approval? Sympathy? Companionship? I don't know. She doesn't understand me. She doesn't understand one ounce of what I'm about. We're better off leaving each other alone. She's got problems. So do I. What the fuck of it?

The Shadow knows 1:51 PM
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