My second job is not great like it used to be. Things are being turned upside-down by a fleet of managers new to our store... ugh... I start school again next week. My personal life is a disaster, just like my bedroom. I wish I could go back home to the beach, where I felt safe and I had a sense of belonging, where I wasn’t being eaten up inside by other peoples cruelty. I wish I could escape my own feelings, for even a little while.
The neighborhood is being renovated. They start sawing and hammering very early. So tired but it’s time to go back to work.