And two dump truck slams forward. Send me to outer space please. Hit me so Fucking hard, if I'm still alive, get me so high in the air I leave the atmosphere where there's no oxygen. If I'm in the ground, and still drawing breath, back up over me. Get that bed up in the air and dump whatever is inside on me. Asphalt, rocks, dirt, mulch, mud, sand, shit. 

  Don't worry about the cost. Someone will cover me. 

   Do me a solid yea? Grant a poor guy his last rights. Please?

    I took a mental/exhaustion day off 2 weeks ago, therefore not a full check, I took half of last Thursday and Friday off to go to Saratoga, where I spent no money But again, no full check. And of course, we can't forget fucking labor day. No work this Monday, so no full check. My check this week was shit. 

      I was already overdrafting to survive until today. My check was barely enough to get me to zero. Fine. I'll lyft all weekend. My account lets me overdraft up to $200. I get charged $35 for every thing I buy. Now my account is fully fucked. 

    Getting gas today, my card told me to Fuck myself. That's a first in a while where I had no backup. None. So here I sit. Out of gas. Out of money. Mentally spent. Wondering what to do. So here I sit. Writing. I'm in it. All of it. Right now. 

   I can't recall if I've publicly gone over all my finances. Lack thereof rather. It's probably about time I do that.   yes. To get out on paper and in writing everything. EVERYTHING. It's not pretty. Anything you could think of is fucked. And more. What the fuck is wrong with me? But in writing it out it becomes therapeutic. It really is. It helps. 

    As for my current situation, I'm not quite sure, nor am I prepared yet to figure it out. It's beginning to rain, and I think I'll go for a long walk. 

This came on shuffle. Check Verbal Vomit because more will end up there. I might fucking make some concoctions. I have no money, but yet yesterday I was able to buy another bottle and ice tea. How fitting.