wearetheuniforms

"Hiding in my room, safe within my womb, I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock. I am an island."

Every weekday morning I wake up to Gravy Train's "Hello Doctor". I go to work, where I pretend to enter pictures of medical instruments, but I really end up taking advantage of the internet connection to stay awake. I kill time until 4:30, when I go home and play video games or type on AIM to people I could care less about. Then Paul gets home, and we have brief conversation, and he scoots off to his room where he drinks away his sorrows and plays computer chess. I try to write, eventually falter, then around 1 or 2 in the morning I marvel at how fast the night went by. I try to sleep, but can't for about an hour. I wake up to Gravy Train, feeling refreshed from 4 hours of sleep, and I repeat this process for five days. The weekend comes, and I wait around for people to tell me they want to get together. Because I'm not that keen on going out all the time, inevitably, no one calls because they assume I don't want to visit anyway.

In a nutshell, this is what I do. It's called a "rut", and most people get stuck in one for part, most, or all of their lives.