Tired

I'm not used to this "working." My sleep has been broken by frequent dreams, some of them about getting fired. The little money I have (at the moment, I have $-74 in my checking account, and all my credit cards are maxed out) goes to buying gas, which means I can't afford to eat lunch. My finger aches like a motherfucker every time I so much as touch anything, and there is something wrong with my knee. I am in considerable debt, and I need to buy a new spare tire. Also, the excema the periodically afflicts my elbow areas has resurfaced, much to my itchy chagrin. I've also not written anything particularly worthwhile in what feels like months.

Which, basically, is my round-about way of saying that I'm not writing anything worthwhile now. Tough titties, scumbags.

(If you'd like, though, feel free to donate every penny you have, via Paypal, to rob-at-funnsylvania.com. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.)