The Closer You Get

 

Metaphysical art / Felice Casorati/ Girl on a red carpet

Working on this starting the night before.  Got home and had a balanced meal of hot dogs with mustard and drank a couple of hazy’s.  Feels somewhat better, but that is a pretty low bar.

When I go to work tomorrow, I will have fifteen working days remaining.  I will also have four days of sick keave and two days of vacation.  So the number of days at the mill is <10 days.

Each day going in is getting harder to go into what was once functional but is now a clown car.  I suppose that I will gut it through, but I need to hide from people in order to keep from shouting “you dumb cunts!!!” at the top of my lungs (Sidebar here:  It has been my experience that there is an approximately equal number of cunts with testicles as there are with vaginas).

I have to persevere.  And I will.  But when you hit the end of the road in a phase of your life (thirteen years in this case) and at the end you wonder if you did anything of worth, just makes it more needful to leave and close the door quietly on the way out.

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The last couple of days have convinced me that I need to evaluate my transportation.  Snow is infrequent, but I realized how little I like being out in inclement weather.