I work too much

I work two jobs. One is a morning the job, the other a night job. I'm going insane now.

I work too much

I used to write a lot

but now I just wake up

work

go home, eat ham and drink root beer,

watch porn maybe

relax and then

more work. 

It's almost two in the morning

and I work at six.

I work in the land of retail where

old women and soccer moms

stroll in, baring the baggage of 

family, bills, cooking, cleaning it presses them like cement.

Yet

they always have time

to browse

and shop.

They bring their kids

their whiny kids who cry when they don't have quarter

to buy one of our s****y rubber balls.

One baby cried for over an hour

and I am now pro-choice

all because of it.

My other job moves in phase shifts.

This mean time is never set

and that I would have to work maybe a few hours

before

or after.

I was supposed to work 8-10:30 tonight

but I worked 5-12:30,

checking out movies, DVDs, Blue-rays, and video games.

Checking out my female co-workers who

remind me of the only positive perk of working

retail over fast food. It's cleaner.

I cleaned a toilet that was caked

in s**t and piss. Someone had missed

the toilet entirely and instead of shitting and pissing in the toilet

or on the toilet, it felt like he was doing it

to my life. 7.75 an hour with commission, four years of college

an associates degree, close to finishing a double major in 

social studies and English, and I'm wearing a dark blue polo shirt

slacks

dress shoes

a belt I bought at Goodwill that neither matches the mud or the dirt--

and I'm here cleaning some jackasses piss and s**t

off a toilet.

It's 2 a.m. and if I worked at 9 or 10 the next morning

I would be drinking myself to sleep instead

of staring at the glowing face of my laptop

tapping my callused fingers on its teeth hoping

that words would fall out and make art

or a story or a poem.

I don't do it enough. This is rare. I used to write so much

and now

I write so little, all because I have to pay bills.

Like I said, I work too much and the need to survive

has become my prison from my need

to live. 

Reviews

[Emma Berman]

Wow... I feel like I know your life now.

C'mon, it won't be like this forever especially with all this excitement going for you as a writer!

You're going places, man, I KNOW IT!