The Book Of GOB
At 5:35 this morning I told my husband I felt like I was "in hell". It wasn't an exaggeration. I've had one thing after another go wrong, whether with my health, my employment or his employment. It's sort of like a season in the desert or something.
It's about to the point now where you have to laugh because it's all so blasted tragic. It's like a Yiddish Melodrama, and it's so bad that I don't even want to list everything because looking at it written-out would make people think I've actually made this stuff up.
I started thinking that perhaps I was like Job, and then now I think maybe I should be more like GOB--Gob Bluth.
My current responses to the hellapalooza that is my life are now as follows:
I've made a HUGE mistake.
I turn illusions for money.