What A Sorry-Assed Week...

My poor old ass is indeed in deep shit. Seems the VA wants to fuck with my meds again, and now I am totally fucked. Up and down, and up and down, ad nauseum. Jesus H. Christ, when will these asshats stop fucking with me? The ass wipe that claims to be my shrink and wants total control of my fuckin miserable life is giving me shit fits with his "I know what's best for you" shit, and the fucker don't even live inside my head! Can you tell I am pissed?

Last night I got zero sleep, which is the one thing that keeps me stable. Fine. I go to the VA clinic today to pick up a much needed script. Gee, old man, we forgot to tell ya! The doctor has the fucking day off! Sorry about your luck! Didn't he tell ya when you talked to him on Friday? (Fuck, no!) So, here I am, damn near comatose, being asked to drive 75 miles to pick up a fucking script that I finally managed to weasel out of them. And I can barely walk to the pickup. I went home, and Rosie told me she would take me to BC, but hey! Can't be until Wednesday!

So, I sit here at midnight with a little glass of Captain's and contemplate my navel. Serves me right to suffer...

Fuck it, don't mean nothin'...

Charlie~