What am I?

I wonder. Not wanting to believe I will never know. Knowing I will not want to believe what is evident. Believing instead, in hope. That is who I am. I am Squirrel. But. What am I?

weasels

i read the comments on my blog a couple of days ago and it made me sad.  I kind of was hoping everyone stopped caring and maybe thought I was dead and you all just would go away because both you and I just don't care anymore.  Lost my zip.  Lost my pizzazz.  I didn't want to write a blog anymore if it wasn't upbeat, and it wasn't.  So I didn't.  But I thought I would let you know that I am okay.  And it is just, that...to sum it all up...

my every breath has become a sigh. 

Pretty weak, I know.  It is the kind of self-indulgent crap you'd expect from jimmywrites - not me, and yet, there it is.  Absolutely nothing, of note, has happened since my last post.  Oh well, there is the job I got fired from. I got hired to work at a parcel delivery service company that wears brown (there may be litigation, so I have to be careful about specifics)...and I show up for the first day and my new boss makes some small talk and then goes right into..."whew! you smell like a brewery!" and I answer,  "whew! thank god, because I should smell like heroin, ecstasy, and a couple hookers!"  That was my first and last day with Uptight Parcel Service.  Screw them.