Daylight Come

The birds are beginning their morning song, and I am still not fast asleep. They call to each other in a harmonious song of plenty. To them, the bright sun signals a fresh new start of gathering food and making love.
Yet, somehow, I am on the verge of destroying them...
Volume 1 Issue 4 was put together tonight, and this may have been the most annoying one since. Not because of the paper itself, but because Danny Albertson has truly lost his mind.
I now am beginning to regret this decision to enter into a business with the likes of him. In the past months, his brain has begun to eat itself from the inside out. If a neurologist is not summoned at once, I fear that his grey matter may begin leaking out of his ears.
Danny has always had, say, aggression issues. Seemingly small annoyances could set him into a rage, destroying property left and right and screaming like a sissy for endless minutes. I've dealt with it.
He is also a completely selfish person, but absolutely ignorant to it. I can't recall coming to a compromise with him, ever. It's either his way or bitching ever since I've known him. And that's been... Jesus... ten years.
Lately, though, the actual brain damage is becoming obvious. Alcoholism and drug addiction are quickly taking their toll. For two weeks, now, his speech has become extremely impaired, as he noticably slurs everything he says. While on the phone with him, I often mistake it for eating, but no, it's his brain shutting down his speech center.
His stuttering and use of the words "like" and "uh" have become unbearable to me, and I make fun of it at every opportunity.
He also has no concept of a true work ethic. I mean, not even an idea. Most people have that idea, but not everyone follows it... He just has no clue. He is a blatant liar when it comes to performing his duties, which had to be assigned to him because he is totally lacking in the common sense department. And, of course, he resents the fact the the duties were assigned in the first place. And then he should not be "made to feel guilty" about not performing his duties for this company that lives issue to issue, with zero room for fuckups.
Tonight, though, was the worst.
Deadline is 10am, and it takes a long fucking time to edit, copy-edit, re-copy-edit, re-re-copy-edit, ad infinitum... Not to mention the article I need on the Oscars...
Well, he gets drunk, instead, and can't figure out why everyone, including his obviously blind girlfriend, is angry at him. We sent him to bed, causing us to have to work even harder, picking up his slack. But what can we do?
In the end, though, he is my friend, and I will try to help him. Though he is deaf to my warnings, I will help him back up when he falls. And he's about to hit the floor.