Maybe they (current “roommates’) know how hard I work. NO! That’s a bad way to think – thinking “Do you know how HARD I work?” ‘Cause EVERYONE works hard (except some people). But, see, from working at my job? I do’nt have to go to the gym, or worry that I’m not moving enough. I waver from glamorous desk person smiling (they can hear your smile over the phone) to a UPS-ish box-lugging monkey. Thing is, I actually enjoy doing a good taping job. I enjoy having keys to a warehouse cage. Really, no sarcasm. I’m one step away from having a walky-talky. But it’s when I think aboutall the other stuff I have to do (Other people who annoy me in different arenas, how when I go home, i know I WON’T get a break unless I just hide somewhere. How THIS normalcy isn’t real normalcy. But what is or what will be, then?)

I push the trolley down the halls whispering, It’s ok, it’s ok. Knowing I’ll be driving someone to an SAT course, driving home, warming something up in the microwave and sitting for forty-five minutes then expecting a call from the train station, then maybe driving home again, then picking someone up from his SAT course again. (IT’s FINE! NOT Knocking SAT courses!) Then driving home and coming home to semi/quasi/psuedo nothingness. If it had a sound, it would be mundane constant buzzing. Running on empty. Boxing on empty. It’s great. I almost look forward to the weekend, but then I don’t. Then the people who complain too much should be shot. Then I’m one of them, if I whine any more. People who expect things and who can’t give are gluttonous. So i’ll just keep on keeping on. But uhhh question? How much “keeping on” is too much before it becomes martyrdom? What’s the line between modest, hard-working uhhh individual and errr… The Used? Everyone works hard, though (Except some people.)

In other news? I saw Demetri Martin perform at Pianos on Tuesday night. I mean i don’t mean to brag. Well, it’s not bragging if all you did was sit in an audience and watch, but… I found it cool. When I told my buds about it, they were like, Did he whip out a guitar? What’d he do? He just walked in wearing a hoodie and a backpack and put it down to the stage, regrouped, and started talking. It wasn’t like OMG IT’S DEMETRI MARTIN! OMG!!! it was more like… Cool. I slept no hours the night before because i choose to think about things at 4 am while i’m laying down rather than when i’m sitting up at a normal hour. It snowed like a mother and the LIRR almost screwed up but i got there, and two of my buds joined me. It was… AWE.SOME. Inspiring. That’s all.


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