Quantum Physics for Depressives

What happens when life turns bad on you? When nothing's right? When even what's good isn't good anymore? You have to find something.

I hate my job. I work with losers and rockheads. Timeservers. People who'll die on the job. Or people who'll retire, then die right afterwards. This woman on my section, Julia. Fuck.
"Know what I had for breakfast today? A slice of toast, a banana and carrot juice."
Jesus.
"What about you, Dwayne? What'd you have?"
"Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes. Buttered waffles. Grahams. Three coffees. Milk."
"Wow! Big breakfast, hey?"
"I'm a big guy, Julia."
She talks about calories. She works it all out on some little chart she has. As if I'm fucking interested. She's reading this book about diabetes, and cholesterol, and heart disease and obesity.
"You can die with it."
I can die with it. Most people die with it. What the fuck? You can die of your job. I'm 283 pounds. My desk has been raised to allow for my stomach. I have a bigger chair. I get my pants made. I eat burgers for lunch. What's it to do with that crazy bitch, anyway? What's she got to jive about? A face like that. Mother of mercy. Leon tells me she's interested because she's after me. She wants me to take her out. I told him I'll fucking take her out. As soon as I get my gun license.

My doctor tells me to give up drink or die. If I give up drink I may as well die. I drink to stay alive. It's all there is to live for. He says my liver function is greatly diminished. There's scarring. I've a stomach ulcer the size of a walnut and the risk of bowel cancer is high. My weight is a serious problem, too. I should be concerned. I tell him I am concerned. I'm worried sick. So worried I drink to feel better. What's the best thing? Sober and worried or drunk and happy? The whole point of life is to be happy, I tell him. He writes something on my notes.
"You'll die if you don't," he says.
"Will I die if I do, too?"
"Of course. But you'll live longer."
"Why would I want to live longer if I'm miserable?"
"There are other things than drink that can make you happy, you know."
"What? Drugs?"
He looks at me.
"How's your home life? You married?"
"Married? You think I ain't got enough to contend with?"
He writes a prescription.
"Try these."
"What'll they do?"
"They'll make you happy."
Take one tablet a day.
"Can I get them in liquid form?"

It tastes good. Nothing tastes like it. Not even pussy. It's cheaper, too.
"Guess how many calories there are in a burger, Dwayne?"
The bullet will pass clean through her head. It won't meet much resistance.
"They say it takes a whole two hour run to burn them off again."
Even the dill pickles. Most people don't like the dill pickles. I love the dill pickles. They can give me everyone else's. I don't mind. I'll always eat the dill pickles. Side salad? You can shove the side salad. I don't need the side salad. Give me the dill pickles. And the meat.
"It's not even pure beef. They reconstitute it. There's bone and brain and everything in there. Bits of hoof, even."
The cunt's sure got it coming.

"Take one a day with a glass of water."
I take out my wallet and hand her a twenty.
"How soon do they work?"
"About two weeks, usually."
"Two weeks! I have to wait two weeks!"
"Sometimes it's quicker. It depends on the person. It's mostly around two weeks."
I look at the box. Two weeks.
"Will they work quicker if I double the dose?"
"No. Under no circumstances take more than the recommended dose."
"What about booze?"
"Absolutely not. You must not drink while you're on this medication."
She's at the till.
"Can I change my mind? I don't think I want these."
"But your doctor says you need them."
"I've changed my mind."
"I've dispensed them now. I can't take them back, I'm afraid."
She gives me my change.
"You should speak to your doctor."
"Why? All he'll do is send me here."
"He knows best."
Shit he does.
One a day with a glass of water. Or juice, maybe. I could try a couple a day anyway and see.

"Say, Jules¦ are you carrying a bit extra weight there?"
"Shit! Where?"
"Well, I dunno. You just looked sort of, you know. Around here."
She grabs her ass.
"I weighed myself first thing. I'm a half-pound lighter than yesterday."
"Well, you know. I may be wrong. I mean, if you weighed yourself an' all."
"Leon?"
"Yo, Jules."
"Dwayne says I look fat."
"I didn't say that."
"Do you think I look fat, Leon?"
"Nooo¦ I wouldn't say so. I mean - no more so than usual."
"What?"
She goes over to the next section.
"Marlene¦ Marlene, do you think I look fat?"
I lean over to Leon.
"Thanks, buddy."
Leon's okay.
"Did you see her face? Fuck."
"I owe you a beer for that one."
"You got any more of those pills?"
"Sure."
"You know you've blown a date now, don't you."
"Yeah. I'd sooner fuck my hand anyway. I'd sooner eat cow."

These things work good with beer.
Why'd they tell you to lay off the booze? Fuck, are they good. I may have to ask the doc for some more.