My first day back at the Day Job officially, and I hope I’m not sick. Maybe the zombies will finally take the planet, which is far more likely than my finishing a book for publication, don’t you think? No Rest For The Wicked.
Monday, May 11, 2020
Log 315 ~No Rest For The Wicked~
Hundred And Thirty-Sixth Rule
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can’t be evil; I sleep way too much. Then again, I know plenty of sinners that sleep like babies. Am I saying that all rich people are evil… was it hard choosing sides between Captain America and Ironman? SIGH that has me thinking about the Day Job. No, I’m not a superhero, not even an ESSENTIAL worker, I’m only in retail. So how was my first day back? Well, seeing’s it’s Saturday right now, and last night I wanted to vomit looking at my schedule. As I talked about yesterday, being “Status Quo” is one thing. What evil things do keep me up at night?
The worse would have to be when My Dæmon isn’t feeling well. It means I’m forgetting what it is to be a father when I can’t help him. All of yesterday, I was figuring out how to buy his meds. I bought food, shared fries, let him hog the bed. Still, he’s an old man, and I’m fighting time. Speaking of time, what am I doing for Mother’s Day? One of those “holy” holidays I forgot about while talking to Dear Future Wife? The good news is, I haven’t forgotten, seeing again I know what day it is. Only what do I think about what my Mom told me yesterday about my grandfather? Should I be broken up, destroyed about my Granddad having the Coronavirus (COVID-19)? I told everyone about the man who said, and I quote, “I don’t know you,” and that’s not him being old. Family… what family?
No Lady Sophia I’m too busy looking at Girls, Girls, Girls, all night. I swear I can’t go to sleep until I, well? Afterward, I still don’t want to sleep, as Dennis Hof said, he goes looking for the next party. It’s like The Matrix; all I see is blonde, brunette, redhead. Same with my stories, didn’t I mention Indiana Gone, Whisper Girl, and Cherry. I write about the things I would like to do to women and then crickets, tumbleweeds, utter silence. I would never consider silence as my fear, but people treat it as a sin. If I want to talk about sin, though, what about the things I do to myself. Hell, it’s why I’m still alive.
If I ever published a book or built a brothel? No Rest For The Wicked.
I Will Have No Fear