Stanley
I've had a bad day. They cancelled Pretzel Day. I think I'm going to cry... (sniff)...
Andy Drew (or whatever the hell I'm calling myself these days)
I've had a bad week. At least, I think it's been a week. It's hard to tell. I've been counting the sunrises and sunsets, but I may be hallucinating by now. It's a good thing it rained the other day, or else I'd probably be dead. It's also a good thing I'm pointing up rather than down, since I can't hold my breath that long.
Where is everybody? Why haven't they sent someone to help me, like the Coast Guard or the gals from Baywatch or somebody?
This sucks.
What really sucks is having to go to the bathroom in a sumo suit.
I don't think they'll want this suit back.
Karen
I've had a bad month. The worst part is that for the most part, I thought I was having a pretty good month but I was probably just deluding myself. I've done far too much of that this year. Well no more.
Of course, that's what has me slumped against the side of the building, ruining my pants on the dirty asphalt and scratching up my new shirt on the rough brick edges, bumming a smoke from the big gal from the warehouse.
"Why didn't anyone warn me about all this crap?" I ask rhetorically, taking another long drag on the cancer-stick.
Madge kind of shrugs and takes the cigarette from me for her own puff. "Those two have been ruining lives for years."
"Now you tell me."
Roy
I've had a bad year. A shitty year. The shittiest year that has ever shitted. Or something like that.
Kenny's helping me move my stuff (mostly the TV) into his apartment. No offence to the guy, but he makes me look like a friggin' intellectual. "It's just temporary," I say, "until I can find another job." Kenny doesn't think that's going to happen any time soon. I couldn't afford our place anymore, not once the money started to dry up. Our place... Fuck. I still love Pam. Damn me for taking her for granted. How come you never seem to know what you've got until it's gone? Somebody should write a song about that.
"You okay, man?" Kenny asks, obviously noticing the way I'm wandering off into dreamland (again).
"What do you think?" I sneer. Kind of a dumb question, what with being dumped, getting a DUI, finding out Pam was lusting after Halpert of all people, getting dumped again, getting pepper sprayed by Dwight of all people, getting fired, and having to move in with Kenny. Shit, that's depressing. I need another beer.
And to top it all off, the Flyers really sucked this season.
