Ain't it a bitch how events sometimes come together to put you in the exact place you don't wanna be? Incessant rain has made it impossible to get work done on schedule. So the money aint coming in as it should. But this crap weather ain't done a damn thing to keep the bills from coming in. Still, with careful juggling I've been able to make ends meet and have just enough left to pay the cost of my dual addiction. That is until I went out to the mailbox (I hate that fuckin mailbox) and got a notice from my dog's vet that her shots were due. So it came down to a choice of taking care of Angel or taking care of my habit.
So I sit here in the predawn hours, soaked in sweat, head throbbing, guts churning, snot running outta my nose, so fucking dopesick again, trying to summon the strength to lace up my boots, and wondering how in the hell I'm gonna be able to tackle a '50 ash tree when my hands are shaking so bad I'm slopping black coffee on myself and I'm so fucking feeble I can barely load my coolers into the truck.
I look over and see Angel sleeping peacefully in her bed, her belly full and her shots all fully up to date and totally oblivious to my misery. Sigh.
Clock is ticking. I gotta get to work. It's supposed to rain again tomorrow.