I’ve gone almost 72 hours without posting. Then again, it isn’t the end of the world, because most of it has been hurtful.

Monday night at Buffalo Wild Wings was an utter disaster. So bad, in fact, I may never return. There were two people who sat in the booth next to me who probably wanted to beat the daylights out of me. One called me retarded. I know I’m mentally unstable, but I don’t need to be reminded of it.

I left not long after The Pulse. I finished third nationally, but that didn’t do anything to lift my spirits. I was out of there by 8:30, the earliest I can ever recall leaving on a Monday. There have been some Mondays where I would stay until closing, but this time, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Tuesday was holy hell. I had my phone on vibrate, and nobody from the office could reach me. I was sleeping in and out, and I almost didn’t get everything done before I left Kansas City. Somehow, I pulled off a miracle and had it done at 1:30. I got back to Russell after 5, stopped in at the office, then went to the volleyball match at RHS.

Wednesday wasn’t much better. Thursday hasn’t been, either. Sleeping too much. Depressed.

The World Series is tied 1-1 with the next three games at San Francisco. I’ve had enough of the Royals for 29 years.