The sadness of a dissipated life, Peru. Lima has a permanent weather anomaly that makes it always cloudy.
Misery doesn’t love company, she loves schadenfreude.
All I do is think of killing myself on mornings like this. Groovy Grimble and Merry Nutsacks.
So I distract myself in other ways, and by mid-afternoon I realize that I still need to deposit checks, pay a bill, go grocery shopping so my roommate doesn’t murder me in my sleep, these songs aren’t working yet, I need to pack so I can spend five days in a cabin in the woods, shit, I need to go check out that office space and check the passwords on that laptop and oh holy shit there are no Christmas presents for my brother or sister or two parents, I have to catch the train tomorrow morning and I can’t find my postage stamps. Somehow I have wasted the day on a sleep-in and a hot bath. This is what one does when one is 37.