While I was on my lunch break in the Burger King drive-thru line to obtain the fake Whopper that would punish me four times in twelve hours, I had an epiphany: I don’t care about my job anymore. But then I had a big question: what am I supposed to care about then? Straight ahead … Continue reading Wannabe writer for hire: will work for 6.6% of nothing.
At the height of my recent health hysteria, I realized that I am no way, at all, whatsoever, prepared to deal with a bad outcome. I didn’t even want to pray for help, as though asking God for strength would somehow jinx things or give him the idea to put me through a final trial. … Continue reading hypochondria. part 2. existential dread, suffering, and God.