Dear EvilBlog,
Today started off terrible and my perception of reality only made things worse. Things reached a nadir at only 9:50AM, about 7 hours early for me. It's usually not until I return home from work and contemplate the futility of my existence that I feel the day's at its worst, and if today follows that cycle, and things progressively get worse throughout the afternoon, fear tells me there may not be another blog entry.
When I say today started off terrible, I mean terrible in relation to my normal mornings. Now, a normal morning for me would probably rank as terrible for a normal person, what with the frequent nausea, inability to sleep, tendency to overthink things during idle cycles, driving me to neurosis and paranoia, but this morning was bad even for me. Why? Because I had to go to the fucking post office.
The Fucking Post Office won't leave packages at my apartment, so I have to go to the Fucking Post Office to get any packages. Going to the Fucking Post Office entails standing in line for a half hour, as Fucking Old People send out Fucking Ebay Shit and Fucking Mexicans have to get the Fucking Postal Employees to put Fucking Stamps on their Fucking Normal Envelopes because they are too Fucking Stupid to do the Fucking Math themselves at the Fucking Self Serve desk. It doesn't help that the Fucking Two Employees at the Fucking Post Office appear to be Fucking Inbred. I ended up missing my Fucking Bus by Fucking Five Minutes and having to wait at the Fucking Bus Stop for a Half Fucking Hour because of Fucking Old People and Fucking Minorities.
So of course I was all wound up. While waiting at the bus stop, I noted that my normal morning nausea had not subsided. This was not usual. What was also not usual was when I puked on the fucking bus several minutes later. Luckily, the bus was almost empty, and I was able to subtly vomit on my seat. The bellagio-style vomit would come later.
I ended up basically coming home as soon as I got to work. Heck, I got sick on the bus, so it wasn't like I could immediately turn around and go home. In short, I wish I were dead and my mouth is bleeding again. Cry.