Well, I woke up this mornin with a reasonably large headache, after only havin' one beer last night. I heard doctors say it's good to have a glass of wine or one beer a night for your heart-but fuck it if they don't know if fucks up my head and bowels for te next 12 to 14 hours.
Christ, other than that, I really can't complain much. Life's been treatin' me fairly descent. You know my problems with that rag Mother Nature, but if you would have asked me a week ago how things was goin', I would have told you to go fuck yourself.
I guess I've found that if I'm patient enough, things have a way of workin' themselves out. This whole Francine/Jacob/Stenard thing is under control, and I have to suspect that things could have been worse if I lost control, or got a little to angry about things. Fuck, if I would have assumed Stenard was behind the appearance of my daughter, he'd be dead by now-and my boss really wouldn't have liked that. I would have got myself whacked in the process.
Mind you, I still don't like Stenard, or the little fuckin' rotten eggs that work for him, but the fuck if I'm gonna let it get the best of me, ya know?
Anyway, fuck it-I'm off to Iowa for the day, taking the flying saucer up there. Yeah, fuckin' Iowa, I got some in-laws up there, and it makes the wife happy to see them occasionally over lunch.
Peace out my bitches,