Alyson

“I work so hard,” I say with my head in my hands.

I work so hard. I know no limits and often, fun becomes work. Then it turns back into fun again, for a little while. I barely watch TV anymore, usually only while I am eating. Once I’m done munching, I find no more use in sitting down and doing nothing. Recently, I have found that I just can’t watch TV. My body won’t let me. This reminds me of a commercial I saw during the 2012 Olympics, for the Olympics, in which a biker expresses the intensity of his training by saying “You know that hot new movie that everyone has seen? I haven’t even heard of it.” I say that I’m dedicated.

I don’t really shop anymore. I peruse the American Apparel online sale, only sometimes, when it’s half off of the already sale price, but I miss being inside a shop. I say that I’m becoming thrifty.

I have a bookshelf choked with new novels. I get anxious about them, unmoving, that they will begin to decompose into the wooden desk and sprout up around it like tragic weeds that didn’t get to tell their stories. Having them there is also a bit of a comfort, knowing that when I finish this indefinite task, I will have a bed of colorful words to fall into. I say that I’m looking forward to something.

I work so dang hard.
I check my grades. My numbers, I call them.
I say nothing. ♦