I am depressed but I am not going to kill myself

Things are obviously bad…just not going well. I feel like I’m in one of the worst possible cities to live in during a pandemic. I am a firm believer it’s not “ending” and we’re going to end up like Flint Michigan after foreign cars became a thing.

I’ve been getting work in other cities, it can work in a sense. I’m not a bad sales person. We have a nice portfolio. Just need to charge more.

Anyway, the reason I’m writing this is for legal reasons.

For the last…i mean like probably 6 months, my neighbor has been trying to sell their unit. I’ve made it a personal mission to ruin her. I dunno why, I just don’t like the way she looks? Damn when I type it out, I don’t know why I hate her, I just feel like if I had a glass of wine with her we would disagree with a lot of things. Or I’m a sadistic asshole?

So back when the weather nice I usually leave the doors open on the condo and you know, blare Marilyn Manson during the work day. That makes it a little tricky to sell a condo unit. I mean, I guess unless you are enlightened enough to enjoy that kind of music.

I have to admit, I’ve gone a little overboard a few times with the Hitler youtube speeches that I’d put on when I see her showing the place. Yes, I’m being a asshole for new reason so don’t bother saying it…

Reminds me, the other day when I was at Ginny’s and had the joy of yelling ALEXA PLAY SLUT GARDEN

Smell pleasures in life.

So back to the reason I’m writing this. On New Year’s eve, I lost some weed. Just couldn’t find where I put it. I’m pretty good at not losing things, just not 100% I know where it is. Ginny finds it in her car while on the road about to drive to Texas. That’s obviously a bad idea, going to drop it off with me.

She calls when she’s outside and it just happens to be when the realtor is here. I’m walking down in my camo pants and flip flops and they ask me what it’s like to live here.

It’s finally happened, it’s my time. I have/had been drinking all morning to get rid of the hangover, really need to eat, etc so I’m in perfect form to talk to them.

I started immediately into “there’s been a lot of suicides here” and talking about ghosts and how you shouldn’t do hallucigens here.

Woman realtor looks fucking horrified, the client seems almost intrigued like “ohhh okay”.

Anyway, I was texting Ginny if I ever die and it “looks like a accident”, it’s that bitch realtor that killed me.