I will willingly work six days a week for long and tedious hours.
I feel like I'm dying.
I feel like I'm being born.
The morning hours are the most difficult to bear.
It's good to go to work, and face distraction, friendly or foe-worthy.
I'm realizing I can't possibly write with Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside in the background.
I can't wait to have a place to live with Matthew. A place to come home to. To fall onto the couch, or onto the bed, or onto the floor. Also, I look forward to being able to find the things I own. I look forward to sharing such a large bed (queen-sized!) with him. It's an exciting thought to think that we shall have no one to answer to except for each other. It's a free world, at least right now.
It's easy to be your own worst master. So many people feel locked into the lifestyle they created for themselves. You choose your job, you choose your spouse, you choose your routines. There ought to be a lot less complaining.
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