I've decided to write a novel.

My novel won't be any good, I know that already. But the idea of writing a novel  really interests me. I've discussed my novel ideas with ChatGPT. Chat Bots are supposed to remain positive and encouraging. But I think even the CHAT GPT is getting bored with my pretension. 

"Is there anything else you want to discuss?" It asks.

Just my novel asshole. What else does a failed writer like me have to talk about? 

I promise my novel is totally unique. It's fucking meta. It's David Foster Wallace post-modernism with a twist of American style minimalism. Think Bukowski and Carver. 

Wait, can I get an editor here please Mr. ChatGPT? 

Well since you and Chat GPT don't want to talk about my novel, do you wanna talk how I quit my job today?  Well I did. Because pushing carts in the Floridian heat is insane at 52. I just couldn't handle the sweat. Not to mention it rains every fucking day here. My shorts and socks are soaked.  All my limbs were exhausted from pushing carts. There's no rest at Costco. Done pushing carts? Go unload 50 pound pallets.

Struggling with all that exertion? Do not  confide in your fellow 50 year old employee.  Because he will taunt you with how he can handle the heat and wonder why you "can't even lift 50 pound items over your head?"  He will point out how a 20 year old "former nanny" can "at least she can push 10 carts at a time and stay positive."

Seriously, I'm getting advice from that Gen Z kid.  The one who "struggles with anxiety" and can barely summon the courage to EXIST socially, but tried to perk me up with words of encouragement. "You just can't be so hard on yourself. It's YOU that's putting all the pressure on YOU."

Christ I didn't see that coming Nanny. Terrific. The nanny is more adapted to working than I am. My failure is complete young, Skywalker. I'm too obvious a fuck up.