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Well, I must say I am having one hell of a day, and I most certainly don't mean a positive one either. To be quite honest, I don't really care for it anyway as there is always tomorrow.

For the record, I've been in the most rotten of moods that I am at a point where I almost want to take it out on someone random. It very nearly came close to being my mother. But, I knew better as she came back from surgery not too long ago. The worst part? I don't even care about that, as I don't even feel like even talking about that, either!

Why did my "dear old mother" go into surgery, you ask? The answer is simple. She had stones in her gallbladder that needed removal. She's now got four (count it up, ya ******** hard-ons!) stitches where she had it done.

There's... just... one little detail they forgot to remove as well. They forgot to take out that b***h inside of her. God, it just makes me so mad, that I just want to place my hands on my face and try as hard as I can to rip my ******** head off!!! But, I have a secret weapon that helped me deal with that. It's also ignoring her for the rest of the day! Cruel, as it may be, yes it is, but what would you do in a case like that?! Would you even consider getting into a ******** screaming match?!!

NOT FOR ME, I WOULDN'T!!!

But, I digress... Where was I? Oh yes, how lousy of a ******** day I had. And, as if it couldn't get any worse, I got a phone call from none other than Ms. Baska (my job coordinator) telling me that my boss, Jack is in the hospital up until next ******** Wednesday!

WHERE THE HELL DOES THIS LEAVE ME, YOU ASK?!!

WELL, THEN!!! ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU!!!

It leaves me up the proverbial s**t's Creek... without a ******** paddle...........

In other words, I'm stuck here with that fat hillbilly redneck midget ball-breaker cocksucking d**k-muncher from Trailer Park Trash Town, David Mitchem.

But do I care even the slightest bit??? Not a ******** snowball's chance in Hell, I don't!

But, I will back off on that subject, as I really don't even want to discuss him. I believe I have for far too long, now. It's pretty much certified that I hate him as you will see in some of the pages in my journal.

So, now the question is: How am I doing?

How am I doing, you ask?

I feel pretty crazy. Insane, if you will. Or rather, disturbed. Hmmph... Oh well... It's better than being just plain mad. Mad as in angry mad, not the British way of saying you're out of your ******** gourd. Yes, that one.

And now, I must make my exit. Chances are, I'm going to end up in a ******** asylum before too long.