15:34 on a Friday
Thinking of all the things I could be doing. All of them better than this. Weekend coming, trying not to wish it along too quick. Having another mortality panic. It's all passing me by. Time's flying and I'm not making the most of it. I'm going to be lying in a hospital bed in 30 years, all tubed up and thinking with regret of all the wasted time. Gonna move to the woods and live on acorns and be relaxed and poor and cold and starving, but oh so happy and content. Gonna live stress free without a job, without electricty, making the world a greener place. Oh God, gonna be bored out of my brain. Gonna write to Bill gates and beg a million pounds and waste it away. Gonna get back to work before they fire me.