this thing of being out of
school. My job wouldn't really give me more hours for the holidays. But they want me to spread the hours out over the week. So I work these baby shifts which are too short to do anything really important. So I end up watching too many episodes of my newest favorite TV series.

Without 19th century literature to tie me down, I end up going to bed wearing my bathing suit by accident. I enjoy standing in long lines. I enjoy making fake boyfriends so that I don't have to date any mechanics. I wake up in the night thinking about check holds, and Earl, and french toast, and Jillian Michaels. I do that thing of falling asleep on my drives home, in the dark. I choke down coffee. I leave my phone at work until the next day.

19 days. 11 hours. 37 minutes. 12 seconds.