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Wiseguys Comedy Club Failed Miserably today

I am a depressed person. Every day I adult my depression-shitshow. Thats what adulting is. And it is not fucking fun, easy, or light-hearted.

So when I am at my wits end, I go to my resiliency and self-care place.

I pop in at live local bands, street performers, and when I am really needing to be uplifted, I rely on stand-up comedians to help me live another fucking day in this fuck-a-tood of a world we are living in.

I did not know until I was today’s year old, that now… comedy clubs are no longer the safe haven and refuge that I have come to take for granted.

What the entire fuck is going on?

And who is it that I fucking call, picket, and protest for this TRAVESTY of my sanctuary gone awry?

I felt like the utmost shit yesterday when I pre-purchased my ticket for this evenings show.

I am physically, mentally, emotionally, and for absolute freaking certain, socially exhausted.

Again today, I knew I had to take care of everyone and everything I am obligated to take of. And it is a relentless cycle.

I feel like people smell the wits-end that I am at (which is over and over, and rapidly becoming more frequent).

I just cannot be the caretaker of everyone around me, and symtaneously treated like shit because the trajectory of my career was blown out of the fucking sky.

And worse, that I can never get that trajectory back.

And even more worse, that they feel sorry and look down on me because I do not even want it back.

And here is the circular morale to my story.

When I “pop-in” for ANY stand-up comedy show, it is because I want to forget this shitshow I am experiencing right now.

I want to laugh. I want to be selfish in my sliver of time for my selfcare by knowing that it don’t matter who the stand up comedian is.

They are delivering laughter and mutha-f’ng whimsy to my life.

And they make me want to live to see another fucked up day.

Never will I ever step my big toe into the Wiseguys Comedy Club in Las Vegas.

Sorry fuckers, but you don’t serve your purpose for me anymore.

Market yourselves as a self-help club, because I won’t be seeking my self-care there ever again.

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