Every morning I somehow get my sorry ass out of bed. Some days at 5:25 so I can go practice for an hour before work. When I get up then it is still dark out, the streets are fairly empty. The newspaper man is the only person I come across on High Street. Hughes is completely deserted.
Other days I wake up at 6:25 and make it to work just on time. Same clothes every day, no make-up, no attempt to present myself well. All of us meet with our hoods up at the picnic table outside of the Neil Building. All of us wishing we were still asleep. We grunt a few morning greetings then are cooped up into our little cells- single rooms with sparse sunlight and white walls.
"And they're all made out of ticky-tacky and they all look just the same."
Once in this room I will paint everything the same bland color. Then I will move onto the next room. I don't see anyone else save for our lunch break where a few conversations are held before we our stuffed back into our own solitary confinement. I do this for ten and a half hours a day. 7 am until 5:3o pm. Every day.
When I get out, I go home and cook dinner. If Henry is around we'll eat together and chill for a little bit. He is normally about the 3rd real conversation of the day I've had. After that I run, practice- both of which are fairly solitary functions- and then go to bed. This is what my life is day after day.
Someone...Anyone....please save me.
No comments:
Post a Comment