I’m sipping lemon tea and plotting how to get another job or come across 8 thousand dollars in spending money. How is this possible, as I bare face looking like a raccoon deity contemplate the itchiness of this wig? Its cause I have nothing but the fumes of my grandiose dreams to keep me going. The government shutdown, or as I call it Trump's Tantrum attack has me on edge on a consistent basis and people over the internet remind me of why my eyes are failing. I don’t have the time to be cool or cute, and I don’t have the energy to take care of myself anymore. So why am I living this way?
I was speaking with a co-worker on my way home about the woe of finding a vice to de-stress because its just a little too much at work. While I might not smoke, I can see its appeal. Although one drug test later and I’m put off from having that as a stressor in my life. I’ve never been good at tests. So we talk about work, it’s a mutual venting space, and I appreciate it, and honestly need it. I have to verify that the situations aren’t me being crazy but are in fact inhumane expectations with a beautiful aesthetic cover over it. At some point, I started wincing as I saw what Day it was in my work log. It was day 118, and I just felt my heart sink into the boiled contents of coffee and painkillers inside me.
It is just another experience of “shit this is my life” or “Fuck it” or “Same shit different day” type mentality and it is devastating. I started thinking about how often the “American Dream” was shoved down my adolescent throat, only to come to the conclusion that’s a sales pitch for colleges and universities to take our tuition souls. So while I’m sipping this lemon tea contemplating the sum of my life and questioning the reality of dreams ask yourself, did I add sugar or honey to my tea this afternoon.