and so the third day of work has come to an end. i've been sorting through some photos that were taken mere weeks ago, but they might as well have been taken years ago. i no longer measure time in felted gifts, or cups of tea. now i watch every single second drag past, it's like every clock suddenly has tiny weights attached to the hands, they stutter round and round that clock face, huffing and staggering and i fear that one day they will simply give up, and i will be left in my perpetual haze of early morning shoppers and stock takes.
this is the part where i should apologise for the depressing nature of this post. i should sigh and say things like 'oh well, shouldn't grumble really' and 'don't listen to me, i'm just being dramatic'.
well i am not going to say things like that. yes, i am being a tad dramatic, but i feel like being dramatic, theres room in a persons life for some drama sometimes. and also, i haven't kept a diary this year, so i've stored up a lot of emotions that need to be put into the written form. this is the first year since i began writing diaries that i haven't written one.
i don't know why. at a guess i would say that life has just got in the way, other things have been deemed more important. but i will not be making the same mistake next year, i think writing things down keeps me sane.
so like i was saying, from nine until five thirty, five days a week i am somebody else. somebody who smiles at parents who are trying desperately to talk their children into releasing not yet purchased items from their sticky clutches, because, if i told them that actually i couldn't care less if the kid wants to smother the entire shop in syrup, i won't get paid.
but as my mother always says, and weirdly it does help;
nothing lasts forever, that includes the good and the bad
that always used to make me sad, but now it makes me smile.