Are you there, God?

Miserable. This town, this weather, these people, everything. And I can't do anything about it.

It hasn't stopped raining in three days, and habits do not dry quickly. The soup kitchen smells like wet dog, and the homeless have resorted to sleeping here. It's not in my nature to deny someone a dry place to sleep, but this will simply not work for much longer. Who wants to eat in a place that smells like someone up and died in the corner? If this goes on for much longer, I'm going to vomit. And that simply is not sanitary.

On top of the rain, the last few days have shown me things that no one should ever have to see. On my way home from work, I heard a horrible crash just down the block. I arrived to see a young athlete spread along the pavement like a pancake that wasn't completely cooked. It took all I had not to break down right there. All I could do was try to console other onlookers and assure them that God had a good reason for this. I stayed there until the scene was cleaned up, doing my best to help. I couldn't help but notice Corbie MacIntyre sitting alone, watching the cleanup and talking to a bird. Tragedy can drive us all crazy sometimes. I thought about going up to her to offer my prayers, but it seemed like the bird was the only one who could help.

As if that weren't enough, I heard some talk of a severed head floating up out of a flooded manhole last night. Could things get any worse? Not only is a man hit by a bus, but another man is horrendously murdered and decapitated? I keep trying to tell myself that this is all part of God's plan, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to convince myself this time. If God has a reason for this, it better be a damn good one. I didn't sign up for this.