So I did my second day of sales operations at Honeybaked Ham where I work hourly. They pay my mileage and I still get hourly. I’ll get a bonus if I sell anything. I’m leaving it in God’s hands. I’ll love God either way, whether I sell or I don’t, whether I win the jackpot or I don’t.
But I hope I sell and I hope I win. I would have to sell alot of Honeybaked Ham to move my family out of our small townhouse and into one that they could each have their own rooms. I was thinking just now as I was smoking a cigarette, my third since I’ve been off…. that my son could set up shop in the basement of our townhouse if worse comes to worse.
But I hope I win. I hope that we can move into a 500,000 dollar house. That would be big enough for everyone. We could all have our own rooms. My wife and I could share a room, Cali my daughter could have her own room and Charlie my son could have his own room. And we could live a great life off of the money that I hope I win.
It’s not out of the question. Some people win big. It’s happened to seven people already this year of 2016. I could be the 8th. The jackpot is for 198 million and that would be plenty to sustain us for the rest of our lives. I hope I win, I hope I win, I hope I win.
But I’m leaving that up to God and just trusting in him that he will take care of me and my family. The voices have been going nonstop for several days now and they only rest when I’m sleeping, and I’ve been having disturbing dreams. Dreams where my wife dies and I yell fuck and slam my fist on the dining room table in front of her father. Dreams where I get robbed by a mechanic and then he beats the shit out of my wife with his goons and I figure that I have to go save her so I decide to get out of the car and go die with her. At least we would have been together. I can’t help but feel I bring bad situations onto my family. I have problems with drinking and smoking and it effects my health, my body, my mind and the schizophrenia. I just can’t stop. That’s what I’ve been saying to myself. I can’t stop. I hate soberity. That’s what I say to myself. I wish I could be sober and happy but it just hasn’t happened yet. I hope that it does and that I’m a better example for my daughter and son.
But the voices have been telling me to die, that I’m going to die, and that this is my last year. That I’ll die at 32 like Jesus did. They also tell me that I’m high. They also tell me that my wife is the reason my life is so fucked up.
They tell me that I’ve already won the lottery, and that I love.
But I’ve got to go into work tomorrow and I’ll probably won’t be doing any sales stuff. Back to cutting ham, making salads, and helping the customers. I work two more 8 hour days and then I have the weekend off. I actually am doing the best I have in years with work, getting promoted and being well liked by my bosses. My hope is that I sell well and win the lottery. But like the bumper stickers that were all over the truck I saw today as I finished up my sales work…. “Real men love Jesus”. That’s all there is to it. I have to love God and be happy with what he gives me. I’m still going to repeatedly ask to win the jackpot because I need that to get a bigger house. Tonight I’ll get down on my knees and pray to God that he lets me win the jackpot. I’ll ask again and hope that he will deliver. The voices say he will and he won’t so I’ve made up my mind to assume that he will and my life will be made to be enjoyed. At least that’s what I’m hoping for.
So here’s to God, and here’s to the Universe and here’s to winning the jackpot now. May I win tonight and drink champagne tomorrow. And may I hit my sales numbers at Honeybaked Ham, because that’s important too. And may I have good dreams about my family and may I be a better man. And may I live a 100 years in good health and may my family do the same. Healthy, Wealthy and Wise for me, my family and all the rest of the world. Thank You and be well.
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