Dear Pluto,
Thirty-five years ago I was in college. I was a full-time student and worked two jobs. I worked all day on Saturdays as a yardman. On Saturday evenings I was so exhausted that I rarely went out. I did a little homework and went to bed early. I laid in bed with my lamp on, as if that would change things. I laid there and stared at the ceiling. The boredom and loneliness were crushing.
In the morning would come boring church. Then, on Monday morning I would be back in school. In the afternoon I worked at the school newspaper, Monday through Thursday. On Friday and Saturday I did maintenance and yard work for a city newspaper.
Now, several decades later, I am divorced and unemployed. I'm laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling, and the same loneliness and boredom are crushing me. I see friends and family members who have the same struggle. I envy those happy couples who are doing activities with friends and out having fun. I had little of that.
Pluto, you are a lonely planet in the far reaches of the solar system. You understand me. They humiliated you by downgrading your status from a planet to a dwarf. I protested, but to no avail.
I've had girlfriends and a wife for 32 years. I'm a pretty normal guy. But nothing seems to fill the holes in my life. Maybe I'm eternally depressed. Watching TV bores me. Sometimes I'm just too tired to do anything. So, I open my laptop and type.
The pain never leaves, but I don't even know what causes it. Other than existing in this world.
Todd
