Frustration is the name of the game.
He’s tired. I’m tired. I’m caffeinated, he’s caffeinated. I’m awake, he’s awake.
The sense of, oh, just because you’re here I don’t always get what I want is now dawning as a big human realization. And the thought of, oh, maybe he’s bored, maybe things aren’t what I thought, maybe I can go chase after this other guy…
That’s deeply unfair. Still, I think. 4 days until therapy.
Applying for jobs. Hating the Kaukauna cheeseball and all in his greasy orange orbit. Happy about other people’s news. Sad about other people’s news. Pissed as hell about work.
On the bus tomorrow morning.