That and perhaps too much self revelation.It's well after 10 I the morning when I drag myself out of bed and look at myself in the mirror. Who is this...man who looking back at me? His face is puffy, and his skin is dull and waxy and his hair is too long and straggly. Lower down, there is the unmistakable sign of a growing gut.I think about what Cathy said, about getting myself ready, for the time when Jenny comes back. Will she come back? And if she does come back, do I want her to see the man I. Christmas morning and me still kind of dazed from getting fucked all night long and shaking from the after effects of a night of come down dreams sponsored by coke I stumbled through the front door, clutching my prize, a clumsily wrapped ipod, in one hand. “Merry Christmas, James,” I slurred, shivering and wet after walking several blocks from the bus stop in the pouring rain, just waiting for the hammer to fall, having already played it out in my head on the ride home. “Where the fuck have. More

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