Another St Patrick’s Day has come and gone, yet I am still immersed in green. No, I didn’t drink a twelve-pack of Irish beer or conduct a gluttonous act on a smorgasbord of corned beef and cabbage, and I wasn’t on some stupid Nickelodeon show, so I wasn’t green slimed. No, I always feel green, green with envy. It’s been my everyday disposition since I stepped out of high school, and there is no remedy for my condition.
Over the years people have tried to help, but they are in the same miserable state as yours truly: poor, destitute and working a meaningless dead-end job. How are they going to help? Listening to them only makes me feel worse. The owner of this crappy bar and grill could hire a school of aspiring house painters and whitewash all of us from head to toe and we would still have a greenish hue. It is that hopeless for all of us here. Of course, for me, it’s an entirely different set of circumstances.
When I was in high school the world was literally my oyster, and it was quickly gobbled up by a swarm of hungry sharks. It’s not fair!!! Every one of my friends from high school has exceeded their expectations and I am a piece of trash floating down the stream of despair. I could have been this, and I could have been that; instead, I am as useless as a sixth finger on a glove.
Well, that’s all the time I have. Instead of thanking me for providing a piteous soliloquy for you, why don’t you do something really helpful and get me out of this miserable life? Please! Before my greenish hue turns to blue with the everlasting stain of miserable depression.