A Regular Day
2:30 AM, my alarm rings. It is the most annoying alarm you can imagine, because otherwise I would always sleep through it. I lie in bed and consider my possibilities. Either I wake up, get dressed and force myself through another day, or I just stay in my bed for the day and hope nobody wants to contact me. Usually, the second option wins. This may be the reason why I went through several jobs in the span of only a few months.
Today I had the strength to go to work. I work at a bakery and need to prepare everything for the day-shift. That means baking the several different kinds of breads and pastry, preparing sandwiches, you get the gist.
For these tasks I have around 3 hours, which is more than enough. I work on my own and can do basically whatever I want, be it listening to music, smoking some cigarettes or making me breakfast.
I used to work at construction sites, but the physical work combined with the mental stress from interacting with my coworkers and working in a team had a debilitating effect on my mental health. My depression worsened, I took speed and cocaine to cope with the low amount of energy and the added booze wasn't a great help either. That's why I switched my jobs.
It's not a demanding job, or in any way something to be proud of, but it's the only one I can barely handle.
A few minutes before my shift ends, my co-worker comes in and we have a small chat, smoke a cigarette and drink some coffee. She is really nice and helps me out sometimes, if I weren't so overwhelmed by social interactions I would probably sped more time with her after work. But after a few minutes the strain on me is too big and I take my leave for the day.
I think the little twenty-minute walks from and back to work and one of my favorite part of the day. It is still dark outside, the city is sleeping. I think I have a pretty good picture of the amount and kinds of homeless people I usually see on my way. I'd give them some of my spare change, if I had any.
With great effort to not wake up my flatmate I try to unlock the front door. I take a few big breaths - finally I am back in my cozy fortress of solitude. I take a few looks in my empty fridge. Not that I expected for some food to magically show up, but I still had some hope that I had overseen some the last few times I looked into it.
As soon as possible I get back in my room, put on my headphones, light a jazz cigarette and listen to my favorite music. Even though I barely did anything, I feel exhausted. I battle with myself to do the dishes, clean my room, buy groceries or make do the laundry. Usually it get none of them done. Depression is a bitch. As the su slowly comes up, I enjoy the view out of my window. I am lucky, I have a gorgeous flat on the seventh floor, something which I learn to value everyday.
I hear my flatmate wake up. She has to go to the university soon after. I am proud of her that she was able to wake up on time and had the courage to actually go to university since our psychological problems overlap.
I look at the clock - 4:00 PM. Oh damn it, I wasted another sunny and beautiful day. I build up the dedication to at least get something productive done the day. The race against the clock has started.
A few hours later I have to concede, time has won again. But at least I now know about the inner-workings of crime investigation units, another afternoon well spent. Before I can beat myself up for that though, my flatmate comes back home - which brightens my whole day up. This might be the only moment of the day where I seriously consider getting out of my room. Interacting and talking with her are the most enjoyable things I have in life. But that is to be expected, since she is the most important person in it.
We sit down in our rather small kitchen, report our days, evaluate our productivity and listen to some music. It is no exaggeration to say that there's music running in our flat 24/7.
Soon after we split up in our separate hours and I spend my evening hours here on steemit, listening to her guitar exercises and smoking another joint. Some minutes later than intended I get myself ready to go to sleep, tomorrow is another opportunity to miss!
Thanks for reading,
Kekssideoflife
I found your words gentle and refreshing, and it's great how you show both the dark and the bright moments of your day.
Also, why do you think that your work is nothing to be proud of? You do deserve to be proud of the fact that you are doing this in spite of all the challenges, and it might not be your ideal work, but that shouldn't be a reason for not celebrating a job done well.
Thanks for your kind words. Without the dark moments, the bright ones couldn't shine!
Well, it's not something that you set out to be when you are a child usually. I mean, don't get me wrong, I am fine with my job and I still do good work, but I'd like to actualyl help people profesionally, but as logn as I can't yet help myself really that has to wait.
img credz: pixabay.com
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