So Little Reward

I am on the verge of being jobless. I’m pleased about not working at Esperanza anymore, but I don’t like job-hunting. It still seems like a big, false joke: employers just want lists of certifications, not men and women with skills and character.

Who knows; who cares.
God has to sustain Megan and me.

It’s totally nap time.

I like Record of Lodoss War. I like video-games in general. I like fake worlds. I don’t like this world. I’d like to move on from this world, but God hasn’t called me home yet. I need to be called home.

I need to write more. I’m pretending to right now. It just barely counts - this rambling. I’m putting words to page at least.

I brought a real lunch today! Spaghetti pie has been one of my primary food groups these past few months.

I’m very glad Miss Metelits has taken over.

My eyes are pretty dark and saggy. My limbs are pretty scrawny. My abdomen is bleh. I assume life was just easier back then. I crashed a car; that probably didn’t help.

I feel spacy. Spacey? Spacy?

I’d like to write a poem, but I don’t feel as though I’m in the frame of mind right now.

I like the weather: warm, cool, and rainy (or not dry).

Naptime again.

I’m looking forward to lunch.

I’m not looking forward to any of my classes.

I don’t know how people used to write or type-write. Backspace is a glorious invention.

I slept reasonably long yesterday, yet I feel more tired than usual - even more tired than yesterday. Perhaps my body is sensing the end of this draining employment and has begun to wind down. Who knows.

So much work with so little reward.