Obvious Deficiencies Obscured In Nuance.

Crisis stress threat level is at five or red, or crimson, or burgundy, fuck puce I really do not know, but it is way higher than it usually is mid-way through a one-job week and it all springs, ironically, from a move to bring greater flexibility and ease into my daily routine.

I shan't speak in riddles. I am considering purchasing a motorcar which would by extension make me a motorist which would if you follow it to its logical conclusion take me to a dark place I have promised myself countless times before I would never go. And it may all come to nothing as so many of my fancies do. I was moving to Seattle in June, I was moving across the street last week, I was suppose to have a yard sale over the fourth of July. These things rarely bear fruit, but as it stands now I have a driver scheduled to take me to Pasadena to look at this rusty bucket of latent micro-plastic fiasco that is somehow suppose to make things easier for me.

And that may be where the problem lies. A part of me has become addicted to the adrenaline of shouting at the Uber driver who is more often than not the victim of human trafficking and while economy driving with Uber Pool I relish the casual and overt racism of so many of my woke millennial passengers, and there is obviously a part of me, a part I would never mention in polite society, that secretly craves the hideous playlists and shock radio and I suppose secretly I quietly and softly moisten myself to the warm and tender embrace of other people's Paco Rabanne.

How can I possibly give all that up for independence, crushing responsibility and the endless soul-crushing trips to the DMV that come with vehicle ownership and utilization? Rhetorical as the question may be the scabrous ass-flashing beach hag that seems to have taken residency at the back of the Rapid 7 from Santa Monica each and every morning this week may play a substantial role in my decision making process which just goes to show how much I allow events to unfold before me and leave the hum-drum tedium of decision-making to others. Let it be on their heads.