August 22, 2008


If you've been diagnosed with depression, you may wonder why it had to happen to you. The fact is that anyone can get depression. Well...that sucks...I guess. I mean it could suck or it might not suck...whatever. Someone asked me the other day if I was excited that the new league is starting back up in a couple of weeks? I said.” Really? That’s cool I guess, whatever." I really just wanted to go back to bed and watch Saved by the Bell reruns. I really wanted to get up today and go to the bathroom and maybe brush my teeth, but didn't feel like it so I just pinched one off in my pillow case and threw it in the closet with the others. I’m starting to run out of pillow cases, so I’ll have to find something else to use sooner than later...but if I can't whatever. I finally got the energy to order a pizza the other day, but then the pizza guy came to deliver it, I realized that my wallet was in the living room and didn't feel like getting out of bed to first go and get the wallet, then walk all the way over to the door and talk to stupid pizza guy, so I just stayed in bed. I'm not even sure I will be asked to be back on the team this coming fall. I was an ok player, but I can just seem them wanted to replace me. I know I wasn't in any way the favorite or most consistent. They are probably still upset I didn't make the tournament; the guilt from missing those games is not making my situation better. Maybe if I just get out of bed and shower, I can make myself get out there and pull in some strange which may make me feel better, but someone in my condition would probably only end up scoring some a sympathy (not empathy) rub and tug from a 265 lb beast with multi-fold covered vagina. And the thought of have to pull back fold after fold just too....well, this is making it worse, and this is in no way making me want to get up today. Maybe I should just not even play for the fall league. Maybe I should remove my name from the team, so that the team can move on and go ahead and replace me now so they aren't bothered by a depressed sub par left fielder. I wish the pizza guy would just leave. I think he knows I’m here cause he's knocking on my bedroom window and can see me. "GET THE FUCK AWAY ASSHOLE, MY MONEY IS IN THE OTHER ROOM AND I"M NOT GETTING THE FUCK UP!" What a fucker. I've decided to just take a handful more of these pills that seem to make things a bit better, but sometimes they don’t whatever. Before I make a final decision, let me recap, I could a) get up and clean myself by taking a shower, brushing my teeth and using an actual facility, b) pay this fucking Pizza Dude and after 9 days finally eat, c) pull up some porn on the laptop, rub one out and then go back to sleep. Glory Hole videos...Looks like option C.

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