Can't complain

The ladyfriend wishes Rico would write more about internal stuff, and less copying-off-the-internet stuff.
So here goes.

Rico says he's tired of his 'deficits'; it's been two years-plus, and he wishes they would go away.
He's tired of being unsteady on his feet.
He's tired of his OCD, which forces him to do things like rearrange the silverware in the drawer (driving the ladyfriend quietly nuts).
He's tired of being tired.
He is especially tired of seeing the world this way:

On the other hand, Rico's friend Ken, who died of his aneurism, would probably not mind being a little unsteady.
And his friend Alan, who's been condemned to a life in a nursing home, would probably not mind a little OCD.
And his friend Rich, who's been blind since being shot in the head during Vietnam, would probably not mind seeing the world a little crooked.
And his friend Pat Leamy, who's been dead for years, would probably not mind being alive in almost any form.

Rico says, all in all, he should shut the fuck up and live with it...