I lost my dad on August 23, 2018. Today, I’ve been feeling down, antsy, and irritable, because I have to wait for his DD214 in order to expedite a military funeral. I’m irritable because I have to listen to my lame-ass coworker, who is a couple years older than my dad, practically wishing she had cancer so she can lap up the sympathy. She makes such a big deal out of her health problems, an admitted hypochondriac, almost willing worst symptoms on herself. Makes me think how pathetic she is, when my dad shunned sympathy for his health problems and hated victimhood. I doubt he wanted to die. He was stubborn, insisting to do things his way, and said what was on his mind.