FUCKED

‘My life is over,’ he said...
I was in the new office down town drinking a double espresso ordered from an American woman said she knew what HP sauce was, she’d taken a case of it back home for Christmas. A man having a say nearby.
‘...I’m in a job I know I could do better than, better paid too, but how’m I going to get it? who’s going to employ someone like me? the things I can do and like doing more people do better and I’d never earn a living at it, shit, I had dreams and non of them I’ve managed to make happen, and the ones I’ve got left are disappearing down the pan, what a fucking life, why did I end up here? actually I know, I just didn’t give myself a chance and give it a go...’
He stared down into his cup of coffee, lifted his head.
‘...I’ve got stuff that if I did finish would help me out, the predicament I’m in, but I’m thinking, “what’s the fucking point?” you know? why bother? I’ve got no sense I can be anything different from what I am now which is someone can’t make things happen, doesn’t get things together...Christ, what a drag...I’m fucked...’
He fell silent, a lull in the office, shook his head said, ‘Fucked.’