This is the first day in a long day where it is 8 something in the morning and I am still at home, reading Sylvia Plath while I think about nothing.
I am in complete silence. The only thing you can hear is the whirring of the fridge.
I am loving it.
Unfortunately, my time is cut short. As much as I would like to call in sick to work, I have to go. I just think of it as payday will look ever so sweetly once I am done this week.
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