Out of the many mental illnesses I suffer from, social anxiety affects me the worst. I'm not afraid of people, I'm not afraid to stand in front of a room full of people and speak, I just don't like anyone getting to close to me that I don't know.

Stacey and I went to an auction today and there were about 30 nasty greasy, loud mouth, fat men with sweat pouring off their heads hollering and yelling like a bunch of retards. Their wives were skinny, over tanned and had skin so dry you could literally see the flakes fly off their arms as they moved. They looked like they smoke a carton a day and acted like their shit didn't stink. When they all crowded up to look at the old dusty 1970s rat ate sofa and trash bag of fast food left overs fine merchandise and bid $2500 for it I stood as far from the crowd as possible and the more time went on the angrier I became. Every time one of those lazy fat fucks got near me I wanted to break their face. I really hate people. Not all the time, but sometimes. The mood has to be right.

I was in a mood today. Now I'm home, by myself and I'm content. I have to get out and go to the post office for stamps and my printer ran out of ink. So I have to start making the trips to the PO again to stand in line 2 hours to mail a package.

When I get back, I'll have another depressing post.

People like depressing blogs though. It makes them feel better about themselves to know that someone out there is more miserable than they are. So soak it up people.