In less than nineteen hours, I will be standing outside, waiting for the bus back to the city. Still have to pack, sleep, and work five more hours.
I’ve lost my mind so extraordinarily these last few days, and I can’t wait for the long stretch of time that is all mine. For waking up when I feel rested, making noises after 10pm, not having to hide my vices.
I don’t know why I’m doing this job, but I’ll probably remember tomorrow, when my bank account looks real pretty and I have a whole week to do absolutely anything I want. Is this worth it? I don’t need this much money. It just makes me buy things.
I’ve been a little conflicted. And a little bit me-time deprived. But I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.