No. Shut the fuck up. I DON'T WANT TO STEP ONE FUCKING FOOT OUT THE FRONT DOOR. Okay, I need my blood pressure pills but maybe the heart attack will be a welcome distraction. At least I'll get bussed *in style* to some comfortable hospital bed. Let's play fucking Doctor.
"Stop drinking scotch. Go to the dep and get beer. Go pick up your prescription."
Really? That's all? How's about I have another double and blast some blues on the guitar (just kidding, I love you and you know it).
Aaach, when you're in a non-mood there just is NOTHING you can do about it. The thought of putting on those boots is too overwhelming. Just let me lie down with jazz and scotch and all will be well.
I think.
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