The world can kiss my ass (and make it better)

So I woke up this morning feeling pretty deflated, and I choose my words carefully when I say deflated. I could have gone with 'depressed', but the fact is, I know what depression is and this ain't it.

The chief difference is that depression is a medical condition (which I have) which brings about a hopelessness, sadness and apathy to your life, like a giant dark cloud covering a bright, sunny sky. It's not even caused by anything going on in your life at the time. And even though science can't exactly explain why it happens, it's thought to be tied to a chemical imbalance.

I'm going to digress for a second; you should get used me switching mid-thought: when I'm not depressed, I'm usually highly manic causing my mind to races and touch on a million thoughts a second. The window of time where I'm 'normal' is actually very brief.

The amount of natural phenomena that science is at a loss to explain or, to use the scientifically-sanctioned euphemism "we don't quite understand how it works", is quite staggering: everything from the way cancer works to subatomic physical properties to how to reconcile the theory of relativity with quantum mechanics (both theories contradict each other), and depression is no different. Which begs the questions, where do the proponents of evolution in this country get off poo-pooing the intelligent design people, wheen so much remains unexplained.

Don't get me wrong: I'm no fan of the backward, lazy, pseudo-science peddlers that would have you believe the world is six thousand years old and that evolution doesn't exist. My point is that neither side can lay claim to the absolute accuracy of their respective hypotheses, so perhaps an open mind about the scientific and metaphysical possibilities should be maintained.

But I digress, as I mentioned earlier: I woke up feeling deflated and deflation, unlike depression, has it's reasons. I had a shitty Friday.

Somehow, I managed to get over it for the rest of the day, Friday, as well as all of yesterday. This morning, it really hit me, the mountain that I have to climb in order to become a citizen of this country. The amount of racism, xenophobia, lack of courtesy, incompetence, discrimination and outright hostility has left a very sour taste in my mouth. What bothers me more than anything is that despite having played by the rules, paid my dues and worked hard, I'm going to have to pay over $3000 for a lawyer, my citizenship is going to be delayed for God-knows-how-long...and the experiences of the past six months have made me question if I want to be a part of such a racist and self-righteous institution as the United Colonial States of America. Economic colonialism, but colonialism all the same.

The answer is yes, I do. Despite its faults, it has good points as well. And where I come from, Egypt, is no different, only poorer.

I also woke up this morning with ass trouble, which I get from time to time. Most men get it, is the inconvenient truth, though fortunately mine flares up (no pun intended) only occasionally. It's not quite hemmaroids, but it hurts and it hurt me something fierce this morning, after a few days of warning.

At least I have an answer to the question 'What's up your butt?'

I don't have any preparation H in the house, despite this having happened to me before. Usually, when it does, I buy it, use it and when the inflamation subsides, I throw it away. I don't like the idea of putting the rest of the ointment in my medicine cabinet only for some girl to see it and wonder why she's involved with someone with ass trouble. You laugh, but it's the little things.

Given my ass trouble and my wretched deflation, I probably shouldn't have had an omelette with that much salt and...beef jerky. I'm ashamed to say I've made omelettes with beef jerky and they taste delicious, not to mention all that protein.

The problem is that omelettes with beef jerky are ghetto, even if ghetto people don't make them that way. And feeling ghetto is no way to feel when you're also feeling deflated. I know I'm an eccentric person but the problem is that eccentricities lose their charm when you're feeling low. Then, they just make you feel like a freak, as I should feel considering I made a beef-jerky omelette today.

I went to work and stopped by Starbucks along the way to pick up a Venti pick-me-up of Mocha Frappacino. $5.09 if you can believe that.

What pisses me off about that price is the balls on the people at Starbucks. Not only is it shit expensive, it's also shit inconvenient finding an extra 9 or 10 cents to go with your $5. They could have charged $4.99 or $5 for one and not have their profits affected that much, but they don't give a shit. The nerve of those Starfucks bastards charging an extra 10 cents in order to meet their arbitrarily obscene profit margin, all at the expense of their customers' comfort. Who the fuck did they think they were?

And then a thought struck me: why not order the Grande, instead of the Venti. Roughly half it's size, why did I need a bucket of sweetened mocha frap, when a mug would do just as well. It would also save me a few bucks. It's about time I learnt to discipline myself.

So I ordered a Grande Mocha Frappacino with no whipped cream.

$4.44.

Can you fucking believe that? Half the size and only 65 cents cheaper! The BALLS on those people! And what pisses me off even moreis I still bought it. Instead of taking everyone hostage, forcing them to serve coffee for free, demand that my citizenship be expedited and ask for a small plane, fueled and ready to head to Cuba.

On the way to work (yes, I had to go in today), I saw a new 'public service' advertisement at the bus station that had a picture of a very cute toddler, sitting in the back seat of a car, looking absolutely stunned. The tagline read:

WHEN YOU SCREAM AT A DRIVER, SHE LEARNS THAT LESSON.

How petty and small-minded is that? Have we fed all the homeless people, cured cancer and stopped all war so we can now tackle the vexing problem of the kind of example we set our kids when we lose our shit at the ass-faced soccer mom cunt in the minivan who cut you off because she hasn't mastered the principles of driving, not to mention peripheral vision? Yes, I hope my daughter learns that lesson from me: if an ass-faced soccer mom cunt cuts you off, you better let her know she's going to get an earful of obscenities that probably impune her heritage, her various mental deficiencies as well as a wide range of imaginative sexual proclivities that I confidently assert she partakes in, with the help of a variety of farmyard animals, men of the cloth and the eunuch of husband whom I imagine frequents bathrooms on the Interstate to service fat truckers.

That seems fair to me. Who fucking cares what kind of message the kid gets? It won't be a worse message than the one she gets when we bomb the shit out a 3rd world country or she goes with her friends to Cancun to suck some mono-syllabic, twelve word vocab kid's pink knob for the eternal immortality and stardom of that cherished digital tome of the day also known as a Girls Gone Wild video.

I am so flipping mad. I think it's because I have to work today. And even if I didn't, I'd still be mad because it's such a crappy day as well.

Most of all, I'm mad because I have a sneaking suspicion that even if my citizenship woes were to be resolved, Starbucks were to lower the price of its Venti Mocha Fraps to $4.99, ads promoting the surgical removal of your middle finger to resist the temptation of flipping off crazy fucks who drive purely to piss you off were banned, I'd still be unhappy and lonely as all fuck.

I think my depression is on the verge of returning. Maybe a month or two at the outside, and it scares the shit out of me.