petulance

warm today. on a cigarette break, staring up at the sky. clouds, eventually. rain.

it would be good to journal what happens every day. then i might remember what day something happened on.

so, friday: blank morning. hungover. intermittent sleep, groggy wakenings. one, two in the afternoon - then, work. didn't go out. friday: blank. a gap in the calendar of recountable occasions. some writing in the late afternoon, but nothing of any lustre.

the biggest change friday brought? the increasing dissatisfaction with my job. the terror of my inevitable severance from it. beginning to violently despise everyone - their tics, their predictable moods, their sarcasm & their abrasive remarks. then, knowing i'm the same - predictable and petulant - i am sucked deeper into the mire. the worn-down carnival of fakery to every patron at the door. super-smiles & obeisant laughter. i have my good nights & my bad. sometimes they treat me like i'm four years old. i think they can read me like an open book. i disgust myself. i'm a terrible worker. i'm snappish, disagreeable. i'm a sad drunk.

i should really read a book again. i need a re-up in the faith department.

tonight:

"are you not speaking tonight?" (with a weary resignment to the 'eccentricity')

"i wish i didn't have to." my response.

"oh."

i'm a child. i don't know how people put up with me.