That moment when you realize someone else is living your life, and you are going to die alone and very hairy (both from your legs, which you haven't shaved in decades, and from the eleventy million cats who are sucking the life out of you and pissing in your bathtub on a regular basis); that moment when you realize that even if you did die it would be weeks until your corpse was discovered if it weren't for your kid, who you may end up living with for the rest of your miserable little life because, well, there isn't really anyone else you'd rather hang out with, and if you'd rather hang out with someone else too bad for you because there isn't anyone else?
Yeah. I'm there.
I'm going to watch Breaking bad now. Because watching random fake violence has to be better than wallowing.
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