I'm finding out tonight that letting go of work, be it rubbish or not, is not an easy task once you've grabbed ahold of one. There is nothing in my life I despise more now than my job. All the while I've never considered it horrible in every definition of the word but it is degrading and utterly annoying, beyond cheap and burdensome for its salary. I had to endure because of my plans to enjoy the last remaining days of me and my lover. We had settled the score of last night's jealousy. It wouldn't harm me to keep being sceptical, after all, she had a history of juggling two at once, she once opened up. Can't help but feel judgmental and distrustful. She doesn't deserve this kind of treatment from me. I don't deserve any either. Our bond is at its infancy and fragile, not to mention we've already been on a lot worse before this. Pray that the heavy discomfort weighing in my heart would pass, and that it is all a figment of my own imagination, and that our collective love is stronger than what we actually feel.
The rubbishness of my job continues but at least I finally have half of the salary for a week's worth. Going home disheveled and hungry wouldn't help me and her both. I need to widen my pride and stamp it with joy. A tofu kind of joy. I'd rather that than nothing, and it's better to keep hoping every time with a smile on my face.