Been a busy day. Things have finally calmed down.
I should be happy that it’s almost time to go home. But I don’t want to go. not that I want to be here, but the overall futility of it all is bearing down on me.
Home to cleanup.
Home to sleep.
Home to play with the kids – this is the only thing compelling me to go home, really. And even that, tonight, feels like it’ll be more of a chore than a positive.
I need to get out. I need to shake things up. I need to act like I care. I think I’ve hit the bottom, finally. Of course, my biorhythm indicates I’m bottoming out intellectually, which explains tons….