May 8th 2019

Today I realised that I’d rather be at work than at home. And I don’t really know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I had a lot to do today and ended up staying at work quite late, but it didn’t really bother me because I don’t really have anything to get home for right now.

Sure, Mum and Dad are here, and as it turned out I did miss out on a Moroccan tagine for dinner, but that’s not the point. My love life is nonexistent and I don’t really have any friends that live around here anymore. Plus I’m fucking knackered all the time.

That means that my weekday evenings usually just consist of sitting around, and going to sleep until it’s time to go to work again. But I’m actually enjoying being at work, because it at least brings me satisfaction. I mean, it’s also super stressful at the moment and I’m getting annoyed by a lot of things, but that’s sort of rewarding.

Because in my new job I’m now incentivised by sales, I find myself looking forward to getting into work to check how many products we sold the previous day, because that’ll affect how much I’m paid at the end of the month.

Like I said, I’m not sure it’s an incredibly healthy lifestyle, but it’s all I’ve really got at the moment. During the week, at least. I’ve got plans with mates out-of-town every weekend in May, and then I’m going to Ibiza in June, so I’ve still got stuff going on in my social life, just not during the week. During the week I work, and I sleep, and when I sleep I often dream about work.

Until tomorrow, repeat ad infinitum.


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