it could be worse and as soon as anyone says that it always becomes much much worse than before

tomorrow, i go back to work. back to the library. i never write about working when i'm at school, even though i have a job. perhaps it was the hours. early morning friday, saturday and sunday. seven ante meridiem to nine ante meridiem. perhaps it was because the job was so easy. sitting at the front desk of my dorm swiping IDs and making sure people were where they were supposed to be, which was rare since no one was up that early on the weekend. except for the film shoots.

when the film kids would sit on the bench, we'd exchange a look. the "oh man, i know how you feel" look. i'd play Interpol or Postal Service or Elliott Smith, and we'd stare at each other. sometimes they would steal the C Store bagels and they would ask me if they could, and i'd just shrug my shoulders. "i dunno, i don't work there." i'm sure there are worse crimes to commit that snatching one lousy bagel from an overpriced on-campus convenience store.

sometimes i'd fall asleep if it was really slow. other times i'd be way too alert for so early in the morning. i'd write letters and do homework and read novels. great things to accomplish.

later at 10am, i'd fall back asleep till the late afternoon and curse my non-existant internal alarm clock. i missed sleeping in on the weekends. uninterrupted sleep.

now at home, people are on this european time. meaning everyone is asleep by 10pm and i'm still awake, stubborn. not ready for bed. but since tomorrow is a work day. i better get there soon. asleep. zzz. 
¶ 11:14 PM |