Ohhh woe is me......

Life's not fair... I'm a single father barely getting by... I drive a '93 Ford Taurus with no AC and we're in the middle of a fricking drought (not conducive to dating)... I have to scrimp and watch every dollar... My kid ain't working, and he's got four able limbs... I want to get divorced (and am) but it's admittedly hard after 20-some years... My house need TONS of work and I ain't got the will, nor the money to do so... the liner has been out of my inground pool for four freaking years... I've not gotten laid since.... ah, nevermind!

That reminds me... There for awhile I guess I was situationally depressed. Go to doc, pay my co-pay, he puts me on these antidepressant meds, bids adieu with "Victor come back and see me in three to four months"... "K doc."

Now I've heard about these antidepressants and their ability to give one inability when one is "you-know-what-ing" (Virtually EVERY one of them)... Hell, they'll make me feel better, count me in, I''ll take em...

Four months... go back to doc... give the nice lady my co-pay... "Hey Doc, howya doing?"... "great Victor, thanks..."... and he proceeds to ask me a set of questions regarding depression that he memorized a long time ago... then he spouts out "Now Victor, are you experiencing any sexual side effects?"..... Suddenly I felt the urge to say "HEY DOC, HOWABOUT THOSE CHIEFS?"..... hehe... I mean shit, WHAT SEX? In my normal "speak up, we can't hear you voice" I said "hehe, well, doc... I just don't know about that one, I'm not in a relationship." End of questions... I did wonder if they have breaktime in doctor's offices like we have break time where I work... I can just hear him relating that story... The women where I work are TOTALLY piggish. I've walked away red before. Somehow one day the topic whittled down to anal sex... I, one of one males sitting at table, faced with five frowning women (ten eyes) expounding on how that was simply a male homosexual tendency, "you men are disgusting" yada yada yada. Perhaps I was the butt of their jokes that day, I dunno.

Back to "woe is me." If you've got enough energy to scroll up and read that first paragraph.. it really sucks. I've got a great life.

There once was a little boy who lived in Jackson County who wanted the latest $140 pair Nike's like the little boy that lived in Johnson County. His mom took him to WalMart and he got a new pair of $39.95 sneakers... Another little boy saw him, and wished he only had a pair of tenny-boppers that didn't have holes in them.... Another kid down the road saw the kid with the hole in his shoes and simply wished he had shoes... Then the double-amputee boy wheeling himself down the sidewalk in his wheelchair was somewhat envious of the boy who was walking barefooted along the way.

My problems ain't problems. Compare my list to the 19 year old returning from Iraq who will face the next 60 years learning to deal with one arm... Howabout the middle aged guy with Parkinsons?.. The mommy just diagnosed with breast cancer... The mate of one who's just committed suicide?.... The family forced out of their rented household because both breadwinners got laid off from the same company 3 months ago and they couldn't make their payment...

Granted, life is/can be hard. Putting things all in perspective sometimes helps. Tonight when I drove home after a quick date with a very nice lady - I stopped in the gas station by my house... peeked in the Planter's box that normally is overflowing with plain ole Salted Peanuts and appeared empty. Shit. I don't wanna pay twice the amount for cashews.. I HATE the roasted ones... whointhehell is in charge of ordering these things anyways?... Then I realized those thoughts were rather silly. I guess I was being watched over - as I stood on my tippy toes to peek down to the bottom of the plain ole Planter's Salted Peanuts box.. there was one laying in the bottom.

I'm rather nuts to complain eh?