I'm so tired. I can't remember the last time I had two consecutive hours of sleep. That's probably not good for your health. But what am I supposed to do? It's not like I have some magic beans which I can just stuff down my gullet or anything.

Well, I suppose that's not entirely true. That melatonin the doctor gave me really worked. For a while. Well, a day, I suppose, and that was two years ago. But can you really blame the guy?

I mean, sure, he's not very good with a stethoscopes, or diagnoses, and sure, his prescriptions don't really make a whole lot of sense, and sure, he may have cheated on his MCATTs to pass the test, but can you really blame the guy?

I mean, think about it. Imagine how hard the MCATTs must be? It seems hard. I sure as hell couldn't pass it. It would be more assuring, however, if my doctor could.

It's not like I don't like the guy or anything, don't get me wrong. He's a great guy. Super nice. Everything you can ask for. Tall, handsome, kind, two kids, single, the whole shebang. I mean, assuming you withdraw the whole Doctor thing.

But he looks so sexy in that uniform! With those big chubby cheeks and that razor thin waist and those bouldering shoulders and those firm, voluptuous, dare I say sensual, flutes. I mean, how do you not just eat him right up?

I mean, sure, he may have had a slight affair with a common whore, and sure, he might have fucked her right on the window pane, the whole town watching aghast, his wife literally bawling with a pistol in her hand, but I mean, come on! How do you not just fuck that thing's brains out the moment you see him? I know I can barely stand it.

But I have to. That is, as long as I'm his patient. Sure, I could go to a doctor with a real degree and a real license and good diagnoses and good prescriptions, but what fun would that be? Plus, the moment I do that, I'm screwed! How am I suppose to see Dr. Hunk then?

I couldn't. I wouldn't. There'd be no sound reason. At least, not one that I can think of. So here I am, suffering through the travesty that is my current condition, for all that dynamite of a man. It's totally worth it.

Sure, I'm pretty sure my insomnia's gotten worse, and sure, the prescriptions stopped working a hell of a long time ago, and sure, hallucinations have become a regular phenomenon, and sure, I've almost totaled my car a couple of times, but that's the price you have to pay! It's true love, I tell you! It is! Just as soon as he figures it out.

Of course I make sure to check in regularly, about once a week, just to ensure I stay top of mind. Sure, my insurance has since sky rocketed and I'm paying bills to pay bills to pay bills and I can no longer hold a job or afford food or housing or any of that, but hey, all in the name of love? Am I right?

Tis not love which makes the world go round? Is that not the ultimate human endeavor? Is love not the very boon of existence, the very reason for living? Is love not anything and everything and all the stuff in between? Isn't love all fair as war is proposed to be? Is love not the single entity of humanity which may be conquered by even the lowliest of humans? Is love not the very explanation of being?

I submit that it is.

So sure, I may struggle to pay rent, or buy any food without the label "Ramen Noodles", or succumb to the ever piling credit card bills, or even afford the cheapest of cheap medical insurance, but it's what has to be done. It's really the only solution. I mean, how else am I going to see him? Just walk up to him and say "Hey, lets go out to dinner."

I don't think so. Uh uh. No way. That'll never work. Plus, he's not really in to that kind of stuff. I mean, he might be, but I don't think so. Maybe I'm being too judgmental. It's just, well, he doesn't seem like that kind of guy, you know what I mean?

I mean, he's a great guy and all, once you get over his antisemitism and sexism and nazism and his futile belief that the world is going to end in 2028. And once you discount his infertility and infidelity and his inability to commit and his blatant thievery and his incessant need to show every one up, he's really a great guy. Really! I just don't think he'd be in to that kind of stuff. You know what I mean?

But I wouldn't put it past him. I mean, there's nothing wrong with it or anything. I love it! It's who I am. It's not something I can just choose to be. Not something that some priest or Chaplin or pastor can just "cure". That's not how it works! I mean, at least, not for me.

I even tried drugs at first. I thought they would "help". Everyone thought they would "help". They worked so good on the rats! Plus, I figured, they wouldn't be testing a drug if they didn't already know it was safe for consumption, right?

Right. The government would never allow that. That's crazy! What am I thinking? Clearly the FDA knows what it's doing. It's a federal organization. You have to be smart to join one of those. I mean, probably, right? You probably can't be dumb or anything, probably. I mean, I'm pretty sure.

But then again, everyone thinks everyone's dumb, so whose to say we aren't? Whose to say we're not just all babbling idiots fondling foolish tendencies for the deliberate intoxication of our feeble minds? Whose to say we're anything but eccentric toddlers living amongst infants? It's all relative, right?

I wonder what my doctor would be in that scenario? A toddler, or an infant?

If we are all just toddlers or whatever, whose taking care of us? I mean, whose the responsible adult in this anomaly? Is it the Universe? God? The Buddha? Aliens?

I don't know, man. I don't know.

What time is it? Three. Shit. I have a doctors appointment soon. I mean, that's a good thing, but I'm just tired. So very, very tired.

Maybe some good old fashioned driving will wake me up. That always seems to work.