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When I come home from my customer service job it is 7:00 or later and I have not eaten in some time and I am nauseous and I want to never ever speak to another human being for the rest of my days.

Sometimes in the mornings I pray that my train will crash before I get to work so I won’t have to go in after all.

I’m hoping that I can leverage my extreme discomfort into profound life changes before my soul passes out from exhaustion.

My life is a work in progress.


One Comment

  1. A significant portion of each day is spent resisting the urge to hide under my desk and play pretend. For a while, this job felt like high school, but now I think I’m regressing to a preschool level. Maybe I should bring pastels…

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