On the smell of failure.

I really need to air out my apartment.

It's one of those nights when you know that the folks who have hacked your system are the only real company you're going to have.


I figured out a couple of years back that I was probably going to die alone.

That it was, in fact, almost a guaranteed certainty that I'm probably going to spend the rest of my life alone.

But the stink of failure in this hovel is enough to choke on lately.

And the blowing rain makes it hard to open the doors without destroying the carpet and losing the deposit.



But at least I'm employed right?