The days begin early and the nights end late. Routine has set in, monotony is my game. Twice a week I can live like I want. Responsibility has taken hold wringing me out to dry. How many of us love what we do? Money is a real son of a bitch. Only another 35 years of working and retirement here I come. With age comes wisdom but god dam was ignorance bliss. If I can keep even a small spark of creativity then that's it, I know the system hasn't beaten me yet. I don't even dislike my job but do anything enough times and you can get tired of it.
