Adventures in Cursing
My mom went with me to buy schoolbooks and then my glasses, which involved visiting Coffman (where I work, but on a different floor) and then the north suburbs. At one point I tried to drive from Blaine to Brooklyn Park, or something like that, and the moronic traffic and ill-designed roads caused me to unleash invectives that actually melted the windshield of my mother’s Camry. Later I shivved someone in a store.
I figured it out, though, while sitting and waiting for the salesperson to finish my glasses order — my broken and cockeyed glasses are causing my murderous rage. Interestingly, the rage came on before the headache, but now that my eyes feel like they are being plucked from my head I will no longer be able to climb to the roof of a building with a high powered rifle and shoot people. Instead I will have to use a shotgun or grenades at closer range. It will just be easier on my eyes.
I’m gonna go lie down and picture rivers of blood.