Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned. It's been one week since my last confession.
It's Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting in my office trying to resolve the issues of a customer's computer that is likely infested with spyware/adware likely contracted from a late night porn-site excursion.
I've gone on a couple of dates with a great girl and I've enjoyed her company so much and had such a good time that I'll probably never call her again.
A bit of depression has set in lately. I wasn't going to dump the details on this site, but this isn't supposed to happen. I'm not eating much, sleep has diminished to little bouts of three hour slumbers. I actually turned down a stripper for sex. Work is painful, but I know that income is probably going to be the only thing that brings me happiness for now. Fuck, I sound pathetic but it's true. I take enough god damned pills that the thought of gagging on the barrel of a revolver should be the farthest thing from my mind. I haven't even wanted to go home lately, forgoeing digital cable and bed at home for hide-a-bed and satellite radio in the office.
Don't feel sorry for me... I know that my life is pretty sweet. Still, I can't shake this feeling. If booze and strippers won't pull me out of despair then what will?
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