A-Day

I can hardly feel my feet. I'm dead tired, but this is it. The last dash before classes are done for the winter break.

I didn't sleep well last night. Bothered, I guess. Between the alcohol in my system and pain in my head, it was to be expected. It's amazing how four bottles of beer can take a fearless man and make him paranoid. And then the morning comes and all he can feel is dread.

All news is bad news today. I can feel it. I'm afraid to talk to people, because they're going to tell me something I don't want to hear. I've heard enough this week. I don't want to hear any more.
But I can't help to listen if you tell me. My ears are always open, and call it an addiction, but I can't get enough bad medicine.

It's better than the cotton candy lies that are rotting people's teeth nowadays.
And nobody ever solved anything by ignoring the problem.

But alas, no more bottles!