I don’t have to work tomorrow.
I can’t even begin to describe how much of a relief that is. I’ve been working nearly 12 hours a day for the past month or so—including weekends. It’s been a while since I’ve written, and in that time my life has drained more from me. The deadlines at work just won’t stop. Every night I finish some deadline, only to have another the next morning. My back has now adopted the shape of my chair and my eyes are sensitive to any light but the glow from my monitors.
My mental health hasn’t been any greater. My memories, my thoughts, of anything other than work are weak and elusive. There isn’t anything to eat in my apartment. I haven’t been shopping for months, but it’s doesn’t matter since I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at work or at a Denny’s.
I’ve also been prone to scaring myself numb lately. I think I must have left a timer on the TV. I don’t remember turning the TV off in the morning, but then I don’t remember turning it on in the morning. Twice more since I’ve last written I’ve come home with the TV on. Maybe I’m leaving it on at night and I don’t notice it in the morning when I leave. Or maybe I’ve left a timer on it. I don’t know. I’m too tired to check. But each time I do come home and it’s on it scares me so such thinking that there’s someone in my apartment. That there’s somebody waiting for me in here. Maybe it’s just that insane laugh from the old man downstairs. Why the hell does he always laugh while watching Jeopardy!?
I need a rest. A rest from everything. Luckily I’ll have some rest tomorrow. I’ve been lucky enough to get the day off. One of our clients didn’t provide the data we needed in time. They missed our deadline, so we’ve pushed back theirs. But now when the do get us that data, we’ll have both theirs and the next client’s deadlines to complete in one day.
Maybe tomorrow I should look for something else to do. The only problem is I have no other skills. My head is hurting. I can’t think anymore now. The laughter from below is getting louder. I need sleep.