My life has become sort of hopeless. I work in a medical facility making brain inhalers. Monday through Saturday I wake up at 5:30am and work until 5:30pm. Today, I pulled a lever over three-thousand times. I made six inhalers. My boss’s boss has a mustache. All my coworkers eat cold chicken nuggets for breakfast. I have given up on the american dream. Someone told me recently that long work days lead to depression. I have not seen the sun in a week. The american dream is a pony that grew up to be soggy tattoo sewn on the chest of a bloated assistant manager at Wendys. If you know one-hundred people with $500 then please tell them to cough on me.