So much so that I simply cannot enjoy the Superbowl. (OK, totally kidding about that.) But really right now my chest is tight, my right arm hurts, I can't breathe. I think I'm having a mental heart attack.
Wholesale biz at The Canary has increased, but this month at The Circus has been Dead, D-E-A-D. Unfortunately, wholesale wasn't enough to make ends meet and I had to use my precious rent money to pay my people. FUN!
(Did I mention how fun this is?!)
On top of that, I had my first Lawyer Meeting on Friday. She was very cool, but firmly believes that it's only fair that I ask for more than what I'm currently asking for from Mr. X. which will certainly further complicate this proceeding. I guess a major chunk of me feels guilty for being The One Who Left. Like I need to pay some sort of penance for having the cajones to do what needed to be done in the relationship. Maybe I would feel more entitled if he had been the one to say he wanted out. Then I'd feel victimized and deserving. I don't know. It's starting to get messy.
I've asked SFG to score me some Haldol from his mom, but he thinks I'm kidding and pays me no heed.
I'm really not kidding. I may have a heart attack or psychotic break of some kind. Does anyone know any reliable smack dealers in Center City? Or at least a place where I can get a really good deal on a nice bottle of Scotch other than Camden? Someone? Anyone?
I'm feeling dizzy...