ticking

All of my time is spent waiting lately.

I wait for the time when I have to get out of bed.

I wait in traffic to get to work.

I wait at my desk until I can go home.

I wait in traffic to get there.

I wait until it's time for me to go to sleep.

Every day.
Even on the weekend, I wait for it to be Saturday morning.

I wait for it to be time to sleep again.

I wait for Sunday to be over.

All of this waiting and clock-staring and I accomplish nothing. Nothing is worth the effort anyway, so why bother trying?

There's no hope in my life.

I keep saying goodbye to people like it's the last time I'll see them because they're going to come to their senses and walk away from me pleasepleasepleasego.

All of this waiting is exhausting.

And I'm tearing through my library of unread books, reading 4 or 5 a week. I don't know what's going to happen when they're gone.

I'm going through the motions though. Laundry, dishes, vacuum, groceries. Not because they need to be done (although they do), but because it's just what you do. You just do these things. These are the things that mean you're "okay" and "sane" and "everything's going to be fine because look at you carrying on" but that's a lie.

And being lied to is harder than not being spoken to at all. It takes more effort, and I already mentioned that I'm exhausted.