in life, the little things make all the difference…

There is a place we never really want to visit, but we always arrive here. The place that you hate to see – your pulsating heart plays chord after chord: the sound so loud the neighbors shout, “shut the fuck up.” The reality that is only reminded to us at our lowest points. Stepping outside of the shower, staring at yourself, in the nude. You came home empty-handed: laid off – expecting a promotion, knowing your fifteen years of service at Proctor & Gamble were never appreciated. Fearing your wife’s reaction when you try to subtly mention, “we have to remove our offer on the summer home in Naples.”

No golf, no weekend getaways to Nantucket, less frequent trips to the Hamptons and flying private isn’t an option – unless the jet belongs to a friend. But, what can you do when faced with all of life’s adversities and the only person worth turning to is you. The only person that can hear you is your subconscious – you attempt to woo him to sleep with shots of Jameson…sleeping with cheap hookers at asian massage parlors, hoping the happy ending will last after your departure. $120 poorer, a few ounces of seamen lighter, infinite levels of respect lost for yourself. I’m still trying to pick myself up. Knowing the answer to your problems; is half the problem, with having problems.