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and then they want to cut down the trees
Most of the time I can live my life as if I were unemployed. I go to sleep when I want. I get up when I want. I eat when I want. I can choose if I leave the house or if I stay home. But then Thursday rolls in – every week – and I have to go back to work.
I have to live on another schedule. Have to do this. Have to do that. Have to. Have to. Have to.
It takes me all flipside weekend to get the momentum going on how I want to live. Slowly it builds until I can coast a little easier. I get into a rhythm. Then, as if someone threw a stick into my tire, I go flying head over heels. I land face first into a telephone pole covered in nails from old lost puppy signs and garage sale signs.
It's so difficult to keep life going when I have to wedge 3 days of virtual non-existence into an otherwise lovely week. It IS like I don't exist. Or like I exist as a completely different person. There are the days I work – and then there is real life.
And I don't think other people feel this way.
It just keeps getting harder and harder to exist between those two realities. Trying to force something will eventually make it break. Something will break.
It's made me do things to cope that I would never have done before, just to survive. Drinking, for example. I never drank until I got this horrible job.
And the worst part is, I KNOW I have to keep this horrible job. If I want the luxury of keeping a part time job, this is the best one I can find. For the pay, for the schedule. Everything else about the job is total shit, but it could be so much worse.
Oh well, right. Oh well – it's all you can say anymore to anything. No choice in any of it. So, Oh Well.
1:50 PM - Wednesday, Mar. 15, 2017
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