Getting an elusive interview. For a 15 minute meeting, smiling and thinking about how you want to be happy to fold shirts for the next three months. Everything is temporary these days, no one is permanent. It's something and it's saving up money for better things.
I would love to fold shirts all day. Be enthusiastic all day. Smile, smile. I just want a paycheck. I'll smile till my fingers bleed. Though the correlation, I may even work through Christmas if I can. I know it may be cruel, I just don't want to think about things. I've acquired all a married woman can take. Except a job, so work is fine with me.
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I'm reaching a point where even the paycheck is beginning to feel like a temporary notion.
Who knows whether or not it will be worth enough to make all of the other temporary parts of my life seem a little less temporary.
It's a battle for permanence, really.
A battle that I've grown terribly weary from and I am growing closer and closer to running away without telling anyone.
Letting them all think that I'm dead.
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