You have to leave your appartement, on the one hand you’re excited because you get another chance to adjust new rooms, on the other hand you have to pack your stuff and find things you wouldn’t believe you own it. The old rooms are filled with boxes and there’s more dust than between your aunt Sally’s legs. Disgusting! Everytime you’re in these rooms, the only feeling you have is the anankasm to wash yourself for hours, sucky!
You’re late. Your bus will be at the station in three minutes an you have to run down the stairs. While running, you notice you forgot something. Something very important. Your key to the front door, it’s where you always leave it when you are home. The key is on the table next to the door, the place where you thought you’ll never forget to take the key when you leave home. Nothing in life is certain, even this place for your key. Now you have to notice that you were the one who manipulated you. You can’t say XY is responsible for your situation, it’s your fault and being the one that has done something wrong sucks.
Get an appointed time and be there right in time. You’ve done all you could have done and the following won’t be on you. There are so many different people and facts playing with your future time. All you can do now, is sitting in the waiting room, hoping you’ll be next. While waiting you listen to other people conversations, “My appointed time was at 11 am, now it’s 3 pm”. Then listen to the women at the reception, “No Sir, actually Mr. Davis takes his lunch break, he’ll be back in half an hour.” The only question on your mind, why to hell are you sitting in the fucking muggy waiting room, filled with idiots, when the person, you’re waiting for takes his motherfucking lunch break for the next goddamn thirty minutes? Why did they gave you your appointed time at 11 am when they know it’s kind of utopistic to be ready at 11 am? This definitely sucks!
Breaking up with someone is always a tough thing.
To take care of a friend with a broken heart is harder, ’cause it cost’s money and lots of nerves. If you won’t be a fair-weather friend you’ll have to discuss all the things that happend or didn’t happen. You have to buy tons of Kleenex without feeling guilty because of all the trees that had to die for them. You’ll need a strong stomache for the liters of alcohol your friend wants to drink with you and you also shouldn’t be afraid of diabetes caused by the whole chocolate you’ve to eat with the picture of misery that used to be a person you liked.
Then, when your friend is feeling better all you gained from it are 5 pounds on your hips, alcoholic cirrhosis and an empty wallet. That sucks!
It’s weekend and you’re again the loser who has to drive your friends from one raunchy bar to the other. Congratulations. While your friends become more and more drunk you become more and more pissed. But you won’t be the grinch and give your best not to ruin the night. You listen to all the serious stuff even you know it’s stupid, take heart of your best friends worries and act like you are having a good time… until one of your friends pours red wine all over your clothes. The meaning of the word “cocktail dress” changes in seconds! After you recognized that even your underwear is wet and that without having watched some porn it’ll be clear to everyone, this really sucks!