A straight up quicky, post-but-not-really... I am beyond tired and stressed and surviving off a 48-hour diet of Sunkist Orange (I don't even drink soda), Welch's Grape (again, the fizzy stuff), Utz BBQ pork rinds, Cheez It, Mickey D's, fried fish sandwich, tasty, flaky pastry, peanut butter cookie, Reeses Pieces PB cups, donut and an Udon noodle bowl from the cafe (read Midtown bodega) across the street from the j-o-b.
Needless to say, I am seriously stressed out and tired and not making things any better by blogging at 11:50p.
Once the current trauma of the month has lessened in traumatic nature (I ain't even exaggerating), I will share details. Just know the plot involves a very much NYC-centric storyline (expired rental lease, police officers, illegal activity, thoughts of extortion, shady aliens who happily slither on the fringe of society, heart-to-hearts with slumlords and recent parolees, crackhead movers and more). The bit also plays out much like one of those dark comedies where with every development the main character sees a flicker of hope stamped out by one of those "daaaaaaaaaaamn" moments that makes you hear "and just when you thought it couldn't get any worst..." over and over again in your mind.
Yeah, that's me. If I am not killed by my crazy former tenant, or the high level of preservatives, sulfites and trans fat currently filling every pore on my body, I'll tell you about it later. Until then, pray for me ya'll...