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Exhaustion finally won out and he slept, fitfully. He awoke in the morning groggy and sore from tossing and turning all night. I've got to get my act together better than this! he berated himself as he got ready for work. The drive to work was spent trying to focus his mind on what he needed to do, both at work and afterward.

That plan went down the drain rather quickly. Before lunch he was as out of sorts as he had been when his boss suggested he leave the previous day. He managed to keep the noise down, but every little thing was seriously pissing him off. He'd never been very friendly with his coworkers, but they were learning quickly that it was better to keep their distance from him in the mood he was in.

Somehow, he managed not to make a spectacle of himself and work through the entire day. Afterward, he went apartment hunting again. Driving was strenuous, as he seemed to run across all the most idiotic drivers in town. Or so it seemed to him at the time.

By the end of the day he had narrowed his options down to a couple of apartments not far from work. I'll decide tomorrow, when I'm thinking more clearly. he decided.

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Sleep had come poorly again, leaving him even more groggy and irritable in the morning. He moved slowly and barely made it to work on time. There, he struggled worse than ever with his temper. His computer seemed to have more glitches than ever, and he was sure the keyboard was faulty.

After only two hours of growling, groaning, and muttering to himself his boss called him into his office. "George, I won't beat around the bush. You need to get yourself under control or I'll have to let you go."

"What?! I'm under control!" George exclaimed. "It's that computer. The blasted thing isn't working right, and the keyboard is even worse!"

"George, you're not the only one that uses that computer. It works fine. Whatever your problem is, you need to deal with it. Go home and get yourself straightened out. Don't come back until you do." his boss said firmly.

George protested, but his boss wasn't hearing it. Swearing under his breath, he stomped out of the building and back to his car. What is wrong with everything?! he thought. Part of him he rarely listened to tried to tell him that he knew, but he growled to clear his head of such thoughts and drove off to see about getting an apartment.

That, at least, went without incident. He was able to move in right away, so he went back to the motel to retrieve what little he'd left there and check out. Then he drove back to the little one bedroom apartment and started unloading all his worldly possessions. While they'd seemed like a lot when he was loading up his car, and when he was unloading it, there really didn't seem to be much there once he'd set it all up in the apartment.

So this is all I've got to show for my life. How pathetic! he thought. A quick trip to the store netted a set of drawers to put his clothes in, some basic dishes, and a few other essentials. It was still bare, but it was enough to live. He didn't feel the need to get more than that.

He puttered around for hours. Finally, he settled down in front of his computer, but he hadn't bothered to setup internet access yet, which was about all he used it for. Something to do later, I guess. he thought listlessly.

Around eight at night he finally went out and got something to eat. And drink. He wasn't usually a big drinker, but he didn't have anything else to do. So that night he slept the sleep of the thoroughly wasted.

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"Ow, shit!" he whimpered as his alarm clock went off. I must have forgotten to turn the damn thing off! he thought as he hit the snooze button. Once the pounding pain from that noise had faded, he reached over and turned it off.

What did I do last night? he wondered as he looked around at the mess that was his new bedroom. There were beer bottles strewn all over the floor, along with mostly empty Chinese takeout containers. He sat up and then promptly lay back down as the pounding in his head returned. Once that abated he sat up much more slowly and took in the mess.

Well, there's one way to deal with a hangover. he thought, spotting a half full bottle of beer next to his bed. That didn't last long so he went into the kitchen to see if he had any left. Eureka!

Another beer later and he was feeling halfway human. A shower and change of clothes later he was almost all the way there. He gathered up all the trash and took it out to the dumpster. After that he sat on his makeshift bed (he hadn't bought any furniture yet) and wondered what he was going to do. It was only ten in the morning and he had nothing to do and nowhere to be.

"I need a TV." he decided. A short drive later he was wandering the isles of the local electronics store, which made him think of Sarah. I wonder what she's doing now?

Somehow, thinking of his daughter was making him angry, so he concentrated on finding a cheap TV. Half an hour later he was setting it up in his apartment with a digital antennae, since he hadn't set up cable or satellite yet, either. It was enough to get a few decent channels, so he sat back with the last beer and watched one of the many police shows that were on anymore.

George had always been able to think better with the TV on. Mary seemed to be the opposite, needing quiet to concentrate, but the TV let him blank out everything else. For the first time in days he was able to think about his situation relatively clearly.

I've always had a temper, I can admit that. he thought as the cop on the show was slamming the suspect against a wall. But why am I having so much trouble all of a sudden? Is it because of Mary kicking me out? Or because of Sarah? Or what? When the first two happened I was okay. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't going berserk, either. What was different then?

Once more his thoughts were taking him in a direction he didn't feel comfortable with. He let his mind blank as he watched the show, still unwilling to confront what was staring him in the face.

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To Be Continued…

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