The Moth

A moth goes into a podiatrist's office. He begins pouring out his soul to the doctor, "Doc, I absolutely hate my job. I go in day after day and work at the same dull task over and over and I just can't stand it. It's pure drudgery."

"I wake up in the middle of the night and I have my arms around this woman who I don't love anymore. I don't know how I ever loved her. It's as though we have nothing in common, no understanding of one another, no connection at all. I wonder how I got myself into such a relationship."

"Mornings I find myself looking at my children at the breakfast table and I simply hate them. I despise them. My daughter is all goth and will hardly speak to me, and my son is a total coward who has no backbone whatsoever. I can't respect these kids, and they don't respect me."

"Some days I sit in my garage and pull the revolver I have hidden out of my tool cabinet and try to find the will to use it on myself to feel the sweet release of death. I hate my life that much."

The doctor said, "Sir, I really have tremendous empathy for you. You definitely have a lot of issues to work out. But I can't help you. You need a psychiatrist and I'm a podiatrist. Why did you come in here?"

"Well," answered the moth, "Your light was on."