Just Early

I'm an hour early for my shift. I want to start already, but too lazy, so I'm just gonna wait for an hour to start things. Maybe things will pile up by then but who cares. I still get paid the same whether I work hard or not. I'm not the only agent here. So yeah.

I want to sleep in the nap room but all the lower bunk beds are full. I have to climb to the upper bunks to be able to lie down. I don't want to do that because I'm wearing a short skirt with my tight upper banana top.

It's not even 9 pm yet. Shift starts at 10. AAsaASDfaASdadssa.

Just Fine

I feel fine now. Thank God I can say this now.

Just Got Back to Where I Used to Go

Went to the shrink at my own will. Had to spend a lot of money. I used to have a lot of money as an excess for four months now, but now it's all spent on my psych needs. It's still not a problem though. As a kid, I didn't like the thought of people having monetary problems, adults fighting about the lack of some paper that has temporary value. Anyway, I don't know if my tiredness is from the mood stabilizer that I'm taking. I don't know what to think right now.

Just Fiery

There's a fire in the pit of my stomach that wants to combust.
It wants to come out through my mouth and spread around my lips.
It wants to burn it comes in contact with;
wants to ignite what's been dormant for so long.
I want to release this blazing inferno,
until everything is scattered into ashes.

Just the End of September and Beginning of October

Oh man, within two weeks I've fought with a co worker, another one made me cry (hormones had a big role in this), made my team lead and her bf fight, and now our lovely manager is leaving our account (in a fort night, though) which made me cry earlier (again, I blame hormones) when she announced it. I thought I can't cry anymore, or at least I don't. Turns out I can and I do. Maybe all the suppressed emotions are starting to explode in one single motion.

Last week, I went to the hospital to set an appointment with a shrink, which would be on the 16th. I don't know how long I'll last at this rate without going to one. "Ber" months seem to be my relapse months. I need to officially know what my behavior is. I need to know how mentally ill I am.

I don't really feel so good, tbh. I feel like I could jump off from the bridge that I pass by to work at any moment. I keep saying out loud suicidal jokes. My coworkers haven't noticed yet. Or maybe they have. I feel like crying again.