Six Days Seven Nights in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I am finally back at work.

We had a six day weekend… that’s right. Read that again. I was off from Friday to Wednesday. I know for some of you that is a dream come true, however I felt like I was about to Bird Box myself off my balcony. It’s something I suspected for a long time, but it was confirmed… I don’t know how to relax.

Truthfully, even though I had the time off, I still needed to do things. I moved to a new condo. It’s quite a big change. I went from a fancy two-story condo with a doorman to something much more modest. I think it’ll be okay, but honestly, I don’t think it’ll be much different. Hopefully I’ll injure myself less without stairs.

Six days off. Then two days of work and the weekend again. I can’t handle it.

Deyn started messaging me a few days ago. There’s a part of me that feels a little… despondent at him. I mean, the last time I saw him was around April. He fled to Paris and spent the last three months jaunting around Europe. He was texting me from Paris making sure I was going to some party thing he is throwing in September. I mean, I only seem to matter to him when he needs me to flash my cock at an event.

I’m not usually one to get all hurt about things like that, but it really did kind of get to me.

Deyn’s husband has been in Bangkok this entire time, and he’s been hosting these art nights. I don’t know what I would do if I went, even though they keep inviting me. It’s a group of artists getting together and sharing their newest work… The invitations prompted me to start wondering whether or not I even still considered myself an artist.

How do you start forming good habits?

Whatever, I’m just going to ignore all of this and find my way like usual.