I'm Not Listening To Any Of The Cogent Points.

Baseball and Taco Time were about the only things that got me through yesterday without screaming my vocal chords clean out of my throat. When I arrived at the Taco Time drive-thru the nice woman acted like I was the sweetest thing she had ever seen, and I did my best to pretend she wasn't dispensing the nectar of my life. She would be about the last decent person I came into contact that day.

Once back at home I continued to click my track pad in generally the same place for several hours until I almost thought I would lose my complete grip on reality. I counted down the minutes, and then waited a few more, and then I was done.

I went to the thrift store where I found, maddeningly behind a glass cabinet, a vintage gold plated Bulgari pen that I really thought my life couldn't go a single instance without. Fortunately, the only employee in the store without down syndrome was busy helping some other woman text her friend to verify the size she wore in putrid ass studded pocket jeans because people still wear that shit here. I was able to leave the thrift store unburdened by yet another bibelot I would hardly ever notice.

The evening got mildly better as the news of the world promised nothing less than total nuclear annihilation. Although some people might find this thought depressing I took comfort in the thought that at a minimum it would eliminate those hopeless people that stand in line at Chipotle for shreds of cremated animal corpse. There is always a silver lining and the sooner you start to see that the sooner that frown of yours I will turn upside down.