Another pathetic attempt at finding joy and normality in his life.

Today, Michael is sitting on a park bench, $5 coffee in his hand, sunshine on his skin, and that familiar, lingering loneliness weighing down on his shoulders. Yesterday, he did the same thing, except while smoking a cuban and staring at his yacht.

You'd think all of these imported palm trees and beautiful ocean views would do more for a guy's mental health. Maybe he just needs to follow his shrink's advice and practice some positive thinking.

Or practice some deep breathing, the same way his wife's yoga instructor advises her to do when the bastard's getting handsy while correcting her downward dog.

Michael slumps in his seat.

"My life's a goddamn joke."