That rumbling you hear is not a plane overhead or a train speeding along the train tracks. It’s my stomach. It is stress induced stomach noises. I’m sorry it’s so loud. The majority of greedy, rotten, stinking people bother me very much; to the point that I’m starting to have a physical response to it in the form of an upset stomach.
I hate people. I really do. You’re all a bunch of self-centered, greedy, self-involved, bunch of disinterested jerks and something should be done about you. How I miss the dinosaurs. I’m sure people would behave a lot differently if we still had bus sized carnivores bearing down at us at every turn.
Okay, maybe I don’t hate everyone. Not you specifically dearest, kindest and most beautiful reader. I wish I could figure out the day in which I became complicit in my own misery. I’d mark that day down to make sure I know it exactly so when that time machine is finished I can go back and tell myself to keep acting or write harder or go to somewhere exotic, but most of all, to stay the hell out of the insurance claims business.
I will tell you one thing that makes my stomach curl in revulsion, when morons call my integrity into question. That makes me furious. I’d like to say that I’m above such prideful things, but I am not. My pride is hurt when that happens and something snaps in me and I feel compelled to stop helping and become an obstinate jerk.
At least it’s the end of the week and I can get back to soothing my poor stomach with alcohol as soon as this work day is over.