Prelude

When a pitiful excuse for a writer such as myself embarks upon the journey of detailing a not so glamorous existence you never know what to expect in the end. The existence in question in this particular instance would be my own. If the task of overcoming the literary hurdles in my way weren't daunting enough, I now had to analyze my own invisible existence and possibly in the most humiliating and self degrading manner. Also I was posed with the dilemma of understanding the intricacies of my own life that obviously would be lost in my delusions of self grandeur. Hence this maybe a somewhat biased account of my life albeit a very accurate one.