point

Maybe it's because I'm almost out, almost done, but everything seems worse than ever. The customers at Bread Co. are about .3 seconds from getting punched in the face from yours truly. My apartment is full of bugs. I dread work. I dread home. Okay, home isn't actually that bad, but the bugs are annoying.

Maybe it's because I can see daylight rushing into the mouth of this strange cave I've been exploring for the past year. So sick of dark, seeing the sun reminds me of how much I've missed light. Dark becomes unbearable. Or maybe I would have come to this point at this time no matter what. My breaking point. The point at which I have begun to wonder why I have cursed myself with low ambition and a hatred and fear of a real job. The point at which I realize I'm worth so much more than what Bread Co. can give me. Or the Y or this town...

I've packed up most of my kitchen things. It feels like I'm going home with much less stuff than I brought with. Maybe I am forgetting something big. I do often dream that our apartment actually has three bedrooms (wishful thinking), so maybe all my extra stuff is in there.

I'm getting married in 9 days.

I feel out of the loop.

I can't wait :)