It’s late. I should’ve gone to be a while ago. I should be in bed now, knowing that I have to go ‘there’ and continue this furious routine for another day.
But, I want to sit here and write. I’ve been bothered with ‘W’ for a while and had intended to sit down and write about this sometime last week… It hasn’t happened because I’ve been too busy. Too tired. Too anxious. Too many excuses.
Let’s write about work, when I should be resting in preparation for the next day, I say.
Flicking through the pages, there’s another piece of my ‘short-writing’ that I’d like to share with you right now. The afternoon is passing quickly and my thoughts are already turning to waking up at 6am (usually sooner), ready for another depressing day at work, starting at 7am. I hate the day-job I have now, about as much as I’ve hated every other; each one for different reasons.
What I hate most of all though, is that I don’t ever seem to do anything on a weekend. I went out to see family yesterday afternoon but, I’ve spent most of today lying in bed, listening to music. I could blame the rain but, it’s not really the weather’s fault. I’m like this every Sunday; living the same old routine, without actually ‘living’, or so it feels.
Life should be about balance, I believe – and, that is something I do not have right now.