Working on Sundays is always quiet, feels like you're not supposed to be there, feels like you could just stop moving and everyone would walk around you. I'll have a 12-hour shift over night on tuesday. That'll feel like we're robbing the place, like we've been locked in and all we can do is rob the place and throw all the clothes, toasters, and soap dish holders off the roof, so we can get it all in the morning.
I'm seeing old faces, you know from high school and that, and most of the time I don't want to see those faces, I mean, I went through years without seeing them and that was enough, and now they're popping back up like fucking weeds. You can't really get rid of those fuckers. I think it's because I'm living at home again, but some faces I don't mind having a look at, it's just I'd never accept that they were there again. If you know what I mean.
I need to move somewhere else. When I do it will be genius.