The worst part about rain is short people with their umbrellas.
And the fact it seems even the weather is against me. It’s a reflection of my emotions. Cloudy and tearful.
In other news I have a doctor’s appointment today. I imagine my doc will order a range of labs and try to get me nekkid on one of those tables with stirrups. A breast examination will follow to determine if my tits will fall off, and I’ll have to answer a barrage of questions regarding my mental health and sex life.
How would you describe your mood as of late?
Are you fucking me? Sad. Sad as a kid who accidentally let go of his balloon or dropped his ice cream cone. I’m in a slump but I’ll manage.
Are you sexually active?
Shit. How do I answer that? I was, but I probably won’t be for a while.
He’ll prescribe me pills for both situations. “These will make you a hollow shell but you’ll look happy so you’re not a nuisance to everyone. This will lower your inhibitions, and inviting all manner of horny vermin into your bed will seem like a good idea. You won’t feel better, but I have to give out drugs to make it look like I’m doing my job. Nice tits.”
Dolly Parton said, “If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”
Well it’s still raining, the clouds are grey… so these Skittles will have to do.