When a shitty day gets worse

I sat here eating a sandwich and drinking a glass of water wondering why life has to be such an inconvenience. Not that I am condoning death or anything, but all those things that make up someone's life can be quite a drag at times. Maybe I'm just frustrated about some things.
A recap of my day:

• This is the third day in a row that I've forgotten to pick up my check.
• I have a 6-8 page book review due tomorrow. Which I haven't started writing yet.
• Soccer practice for my daughter from 5-7.
• I'm physically exhausted, and this is looking like an all-nighter kind of night.
• The main problem is that I don't feel like doing any of this shit. Not today. Instead, I feel like . . . fuck, I don't even know.

My stepdad informed me that my mother was readmitted to the hospital about 1:00 today for the same thing as before. You'd think someone could figure something out by now. This is like the fourth fucking time.

There's a lot of other shit I feel like writing about, but due to privacy concerns and whatnot, I am not able to. Some of these things involve home and some of them involve work and some of them involve my career goals. There are other things which aren't as clearly defined. The main problem is that people like me use writing as a form of therapy, and as this blog has become a rather public enterprise, it is neither kosher nor wise to bring attention to all of these in such a format.

Right now, I feel like saying something witty and clever and insightful, but all I'm left with today is a sense of disappointment. I'm looking around in my fucking brain for something that might alleviate my mood, but all I can do is fucking bitch about shit. And I know that kind of stuff can be a real beating to think about, much less to read. I'm having one of those days when you feel like punching somebody square in the fucking mouth, just because you want to be punched in the mouth. That would probably make me feel a little better. I'm hoping my wife doesn't come home too soon (not that I would punch her in the mouth, of course) because I have this crazy desire to start a fight just so I can release a lot of this pent-up aggression. There are certainly other ways to release such aggression, but it seems that Madame X has decided on her own when to plan her visits to my house, cycles be damned. Never mind, that's probably a little TMI.

Spring Break is coming up soon, though. But what I'd really like to do is fucking disappear for a few days and leave everything behind me. No kids, no wife, no fucking books, NO SCHOOL. I just want to be left alone to do whatever the fuck I want to do whenever I want to do it. And I want to drink. A lot. Every day. And get really fucking wasted every fucking day. Just for a while. Then I could come back, reassess my status in this world and continue on with the daily grind. I guess maybe it's just the selfish part of me coming out. And I fucking despise not being able to do things that I want to do. That's probably why women always think I'm such a fucking selfish and arrogant prick all of the time. (Are you keeping count of the use of the F-word? Impressive, huh?)

I keep looking back over this post, thinking that I'm about done ranting. And then I read it again. And it pisses me off again. I'm sure everyone by now is wondering WTF is wrong with me. I don't know. I just feel angry. Maybe I'm preparing to delve back into my isolated world. Maybe I'm gearing up for one of my spells when I'm unhappy that the sky is up and the sun is shining. Or maybe I just need a drink and a cigarette. Or two.

I told Andi that I would be posting some random poetry today, but it's not nearly as bitter or angsty as what I have posted before. Right now, though, I'm just not in the mood. Pent-up frustration is a motherfucker. I think the mailman is knocking on my door. I think I'll go stab him in the fucking eye.