I would tell you all about it if I thought you wanted to listen. Instead I talk about things that I know will get a response. Still, I'm having a hard time dealing with feeling like I have no control over a lot of things. It's ironic to say you just want to be taken care of, then all of a sudden you're unable to take care of yourself. I'm pretty sure that's not even irony. I'm a comedian in my own head. I will sit in an empty room and strain to think of something genius. Like when you're concentrating so hard that your tongue pokes out of the side of your pursed lips and your eyes squint and your back aches. It's disappointing when all that comes to me is the image of U ma Thur man with blotchy red eyes and a jagged cut on her left cheek making dirty love to an obese man with tits larger than her own. His frown says he's just as disappointed as you are while his fat, sweaty balls wish they saw the light of day more often than they do. U ma wishes she didn't queef while she did yoga but the fat man forces so much air up there when he fists her. She's still more content than I am.