Being as unemployed and shiftless as I am, the vast stretches of free time often give rise to many questions. Such as: “Will I ever get offered another job?” “Where will I be a year from now?” “Is my writing worth any of the time I’ve put into it?” and “Where is that funky mildew smell coming from? I cleaned the garbage can out. Oh god, I hope there isn’t a leak in the ceiling.”
The answer to these questions and many others may never be answered. Especially that smell. Christ, where is that coming from?! But I can’t let myself get so weighted down. Hell, it’s a miracle I haven’t had a panic attack. Yet.
“No, self! STFU,” I say! That kind of negativity belongs on Fox News, not here.
I suppose that’s all for now, Ether. Keep my words spinning out into the void.
I leave you with a bit of happiness.