My diet is killing me. I can’t live like this. My mind is in shambles. My body is weak. I’m exhausted. And I’m crazy. My mind is a chemical wasteland.

The facts, please.
I wake up and 5 minutes into my day, it’s a pot of caffeine. Six to seven pots more through the day.
Cigarettes start once the caffeine hits. Two or so packs of those through the day.
And, of course, the overly powdered chocolate milk, two or three heaping spoonfuls. Six to seven times through the day. Or two or three.
Or none and I feel it.

Every day.

There is no food. Not until I’m really, really hungry. That might be tomorrow. It could be 10 minutes from now. It’s usually once a day, though. Maybe almonds. Maybe a microwaveable meal. Maybe vegetables. Maybe dumplings. Maybe nothing.

Until that hunger comes or that feeling that I probably should eat because I know my body needs it… until that thought registers in my brain, the nicotine, the caffeine, the sugar…. these are my nutrients. These are my dietary supplements.

I’m wired, I’m tired. I’m dead. I’m wildly alive and here for your everything. For my everything.

My body can’t take much more. My mind certainly can’t. I juggle thirty items at once. One window to the next, everything gets done. Then nothing gets done. Then my mind drifts into a sea of crap. Too many thoughts, and most of them worthless.

But before I forget (because this train I rode was most certainly a worthwhile trip), the subject of 2012 has been coming up a lot lately. And the whole end of the world happening then. Mayans. Nostradamus. Whatever. I’d like to go ahead and throw my name in the hat as an End-Of-World Leader. I’ll make a great one. Plus, I’ve got the early start advantage. Just in case something happens, or you begin to think it might be real, keep me in mind. I’ll be right here. If the diet doesn’t kill me.