Did I say one crappy job? Because, apparently now, it’s more like 3/4 of a crappy job as the store has cut the Butcher’s hours.
“I have to get a new job,” he says again. Like all the times he’s said it before. And not done it.
So, we’ll see.
I’m waiting for this to be funny. I’ve tried to think of five different ways to rephrase this so that it’s funny. Because that’s how I get by, just taking this big pile of shit we call a life and molding it into tiny crap people and using them to tell you stories we can laugh at.
But today I hate every single one of you. It’s nothing personal. I’m jealous of how non-stupid I imagine your lives are in comparison to mine. That’s not fair to you, I know. But there it is.
And I can’t tell stories that make us all feel a little better to people I hate. Myself included.