Intravenous

It is so frustrating to be feeling wonderful and happy and light just to have it all sucked and drained out of you by work.
There is no way that I should take my job so seriously.

Gravity

is working against me.
Gravity
wants to bring me down.

OH, this rain. It's not even raining it's just wet. The ground is wet and the air is gray, but there's nothing going on in between. It's pressing on me from all sides. I feel like just one brief, sun soaked moment would give me the breath of fresh air so I can keep on swimming through this murk.

Another day begins. Raining, though it didn't start that way. It feels as though the day does not truly set forth until my steps find the hall outside my door. Until then, I am caught in this state between sleep and reality. My only connection to the outside world, the world wide web (and some sense of reality that offers).
But now it is time to grace the outside world with my presence. To spend another day overexerting myself and feeling far too much like I am so underappreciated and overworked, like no one in the world could possibly know how much stress I am constantly under. I am a barista, I serve your coffee-a real fucking martyr!

Caffeine, anyone?