Sometimes the cheese that I left outside on the stump draws my attention when I look out my back window. It’s been out there a while and looks kind of like the inside of a rotting pumpkin now. The squirrels got at it a while ago; but now they refuse to go near it.

I keep meaning to clean it up. But it’s out there and I’m inside where there are waffles I can put in the toaster and eat them when they’re all warm and soft and delicious.

I don’t want to go out there. If I go out there, the neighbours might be out there too. And they might start talking to me. I… I can’t have that.

So I stand here with my cup full of rye and coke at 10AM looking out my back window, into my backyard. My eyes occasionally landing on the rotting cheese on the stump.

I lost my job and I don’t want another one. There’s no way to fix things. We need help here on Earth. Why isn’t anyone helping?

Why do my eyes hurt all the time?