My Screwed Up Life

My Life has come to a standstill.

Day after day it’s the same pointless crap over and over again. I even organised my CDs last night, all five hundred and sixty four of them. First alphabetically, then chronologically, then in order of most copies sold. It took me an entire night of research on the Internet as I drank a ton of coffee and smoked my way through at least five packs of cigarettes. I don’t know why I did it. I just get these urges sometimes that I have to go through with. I’m really impulsive. Like the other day I was on the bus and a phone rang, the woman directly in front of me picked it up and exclaimed, “Alice! Hi!” So I leaned over and yelled in her ear,

“For twenty four years I’ve been living next door to Alice! Alice, who the fuck is Alice?” Needless to say she wasn’t impressed. The old black guy sitting beside me was though; he absolutely pissed himself with laughter. I mean it wasn’t even funny, no one else on the damn bus was even smiling but this old dude was shaking all over the place, laughing fit to bust. As I went to get off the bus he even thanked me for it.

“Cheers son, that was the best laugh I’ve had in years.” He said, grinning his face off. Jeez, it’s shit like that that makes me sad. If I can be the funniest guy in someone’s life for years what does that say about the state of the rest of the world.

So anyway, one o’clock in the afternoon and I was yawning all over the place. This job sucks. I sit for hours on end scanning crap through machines and saying mundane things like, “that’s ten fifty please.” Yes, in case you haven’t guessed, I work in a supermarket. Not even a big one like Asda or Safeway. Oh no, I work in Tesco. Word of advice: don’t work in Tesco. It’s one of the most mind numbingly boring and depressing jobs there is. I’m sure there are some people who work here and say, “Yeah it’s great fun! You make loads of friends and the money’s awesome!” But these people are complete freaks who should’ve been put down at birth.

Well that day I must’ve looked like crap. Getting no sleep can do that for ya. You’d think people would be sympathetic, maybe think ‘he looks like he’s had a rough night, I’ll give him a break.’ Of course no one did, they’re all too caught up in their own miserable lives to give a damn about anyone else. I’m sure that people were deliberately coming over to me because they had more than enough shopping to feed an army for a few months. They wanted me to suffer. This one guy even told me to “lighten up” because, of course, “you’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you, you should be happy.” I hate people like that. Assholes. I ended up coming out of work ready to slit my wrists quite happily. Instead I just trudged back home, getting soaked in the pouring rain. I didn’t mind that though, I like the rain.

Inside my ‘house’…small, one bedroom flat to anyone else, I chucked my dripping jacket on the floor and sank down into my couch. I shut my eyes for a bit and just sat there, thinking about nothing, perfectly peaceful. Then I yanked my ass up and stumbled through to the kitchen to make some coffee.

At midnight I lay on my living room floor and stared at the rubbish on the TV in front of me. Ah, the wonders of not being able to sleep. That’s one of the problems with television; it caters not for the unfortunate few who are trying to watch something other than crappy porn during the middle of the night. Anyway, I must have dropped off eventually as I awoke there at five am, my left arm completely numb and my face crushed against a wall. Sighing, I shook myself up and started the long, arduous task of making myself ready for work. I went to the bathroom, showered and wandered around naked for a good while, attempting to find my spare uniform. Eventually I found it and shoved it on, regardless of wrinkles. I took a glance in the mirror and moved my hair around a little; it was definitely getting too long. I dragged a long hooded top over my shirt so I could pull the hood up as I walked. It would serve the double purpose of hiding my hair and keeping me a bit warmer. As an afterthought, I grabbed my minidisk player and shoved it in my pocket, cranking up Slipknot full blast as I crashed my way out of the front door into the cold, dark morning.

When I got to work my boss informed me that a few customers had made complaints about my conduct the other day. Which I think is a bit much really, then again some people really don’t like to be told to “pick up your fucking bags and fuck the hell off”. I was made to understand that if it happened again it’d be the last time and my post would be terminated. I thought ‘fair enough’ and started off to work. That unfolded to be the worst day of my entire shitty life. Every little thing that happened in the shop, I was forced to attend to. Towards the end of the day I was completely exhausted and my manager chose that moment to stroll on over and say, “some little kid’s been sick. Clean it up would you?” and smile in a self-indulgent way that made me unbelievably mad.

That, of course, was when I snapped, jumped up, screamed, “Fuck your fucking job you fucking cunts!” and stormed out, never to work there again. I told you I’m impulsive.