Dear world,

On behalf of my country, I'd like to apologize for our embarrassing president and his war. I didn't vote for him and I can't stop him.

I'll be on commuter shuttles between Boston and DC every weekend. Please don't blow me up.

Anxiously,
Swerve

Complaints Department:

• I can't really walk on my injured foot today. I don't see a doctor until tomorrow. I have not figured out how to handle this, as my average day involves about a mile on foot and four flights of stairs.
  
  
• I have a headache the size of Texas. A hot shower and headache meds have failed to banish it.
  
  
• My mother is still in the ICU and recovering very slowly with a number of complications. Her usually buoyant personality has been beaten into depression by her situation.
  
  
• My country is about to start a war which is opposed by practically everyone, including me.
  
  
• I need to handle a number of things, including paying bills, getting a new resident permit sticker for my car at City Hall, getting a long-overdue haircut, settling with Hollywood Video about a DVD I forgot to return (and probably now own), getting my temporary crowns replaced with permanent ones, and getting another set of plane tickets for this weekend. I don't know when I can fit any of this in. It's like a jigsaw puzzle.
  
  
• My desk chair is falling apart. The seat is held together with duct tape. The left armrest has ripped away from the base and will break off completely if I lean on it.
  
  
• I'm skipping my rhetorical theory class because everything hurts. I feel guilty. I hate feeling guilty. But I hate having a headache and an injured foot, too.
  

This vexes me. I'm terribly vexed.

Edited to add: holy moly. I should have taken this Vicodin earlier. I could have gotten to class. Please excuse any weird behavior on my part for the next several hours. Whee.