There is not enough of it. So many things are not getting done, and I find myself either giving up or stressing out because whatever it is is necessary.
Right now I’m waiting for my brother to bring lunch. I arranged hours ahead as well as I could, and it still isn’t working right. I have about twenty minutes left of my break. He isn’t here yet.
My job needs, to fuck itself and its nazi time-keeping.
I wanted to write a happy entry. I could. Good things have happened. It’s not all neighborhood car smashes and overtime.
But right now I am having a hard time seeing past how much I hate my job.