My commute is long. It could be longer.

Each day is the same. Uneventful. Nothing new. Nothing meaningful.

The one meaningful thing done each day is spending time with Babe... assuming his life is being bettered by that.

The most exciting things happen on TV.

And there is the everpresent, overshadowing sense of waiting. Waiting to be out of debt. Waiting to be able to afford more and better. Waiting to be able to get a lower-salary job that is more fulfilling. Waiting to start having a life.

I've forgotten to have a life while waiting to have a life.

Silly me.

Fuck waiting.