Pushed over the edge.
Here I sit late at night my meds kicking in almost time for bed but time yet for one more smoke. What a hellish day I had, how do I always let people talk me into doing things I don’t want? Three fucking hours in bumper-to-bumper trafic. Metal, plastic and the smell of burning rubber in what must have seemed like 40 Celsius. Two screaming kids in the back and my anxiety medication was not doing it today after popping four Advil’s for my migraine that wasn’t cutting it either. All I could think about , between the screaming kids and the never-ending traffic. How badly I wanted to pull my car over to the shoulder to a screeching halt step out light a smoke and walk away from it all forever. The job search the uncertainty its all coming to a head if the kids hadn’t been in the car I would have driven into the first tree I could find. I don’t know, man what a fucked up day three hours just to sit on a dirty windy beach crowded with masses of common people like hoards of cattle. I despised
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