Not Working Makes Me Happy

I’m sitting here in a room I don’t want to be in. Tapping on keys and looking into a computer when I could instead be having fun with my best friend. It’s The Weekend. It’s the time where everyone should be out having fun. Doing important things with family. Spending time with people that actually mean something, not sitting in room full of nobodies.

I could literally get up, grab my things, and leave and never come back. This is my second job. I got this job to help me out with the bills. But is it worth it? I ask myself every time I come here. Is it worth the stress? Is it worth the time I miss out with family and friends?

It’s frustrating going back and forth in what I want. Do I want to be here? Do I need the money? What will happen when I quit?

When I first go here today I put it in my head that tomorrow I wasn’t going to show up. I wasn’t going to show up, call, or do anything. I was so mind set into just abandoning this job. But now, as I think more rationally, I find it hard to believe I could do that.

Is it bad? Or is it spontaneous? Will it affect me later? I don’t know. I just know that I need to stop. Working two jobs, paying bills, being The Man, is really fucking tiring. Can I take anymore of it? I’m not happy. I want to be happy. And as funny as it sounds, not working makes me happy.

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