A Second Letter to the Reader

Dear Reader,

It's one of those days where everyone and everything hates you. (Not you, of course, but the universal, omnipotent you.) It's one of those days where you wake up and it's not because your alarm clock began to ring; it's because your alarm clock hates you and punched you in the gut, forcing you to roll out of bed and writhe on the floor in the fetal position. You crawl to the shower and turn it on, only to find that the water despises your existence as well. It miraculously manages to throw icicles that draw small beads of blood and scorching fireballs at the same time. After your unfortunate encounter with the shower, you try to put on clothes that you find have shrunk just to spite you and leave you with the impression that you haven't been to the gym enough (even though the gym is currently plotting to encourage as many people to attend when you come to work out so they can judge your jiggling, fat ass as you huff away on the treadmill).

You somehow manage to make it out of your building and run to class, only to find the class shuns you and leaves the only open seat right next to the open window during winter - because after all it's just too hot in the room for the window not to be open - or worse, next to the professor. The professor hates you too, so when you make comments during the discussions, they're "really interesting." Not good, not bad, or not building upon it any way, but "really interesting." After that failure, you go to your lecture class where that professor also would prefer you dead and decides to call on you to answer the hardest, most asinine question possible. Of course, you haven't done the reading because your syllabus hates you and decided to switch reading assignments on you today just to fuck with your head, so you make something up. The professor gives you that absolutely dreadful look and then says, "I don't think that's quite right; what's wrong with -----'s comment?" And then the entire class talks about why you're wrong and you just wish you could melt into the floor.

Then it's lunch: a time of the day where you'll be surrounded by people you like. Unfortunately, today they definitely do not like you. They don't ask you how your day is, what's new with you, or anything about your own life and when you ask about theirs, they answer with quick, concise answers that are devoid of all emotion. They then tell a much more elaborate, emotional answer to the friend who has just arrived at the table and asked the same question and you find yourself sitting silently, unsure of how to take this. If you say something that they think is stupid, they tell you that it's stupid (partly because you're close enough for them to say it without it being offensive and partly because it's offensive) with implications that you should probably never have been born. They don't want to get up to go with you to get food, they don't want to hang out later today, they just want to get through with their lunch so they can continue on their own day where, thankfully, you will not be.

It's now afternoon and your day is half-over and you have come to the realization that everyone really does hate you today. You have two options: 1. Try to continue with your day as much as possible, ignoring the fact that everyone would like to see you covered in pus-spewing sores. or 2. Curl up into a ball and sleep until tomorrow when hopefully you will be more appealing to everyone around you.

I am having one of those days and I'm currently making that decision.

Love,
Jake