Cranky days of work and work. I shouldn't reveal myself here, dull, dumb, witless. I complain about nothing, really. I am working for a few days the way most people do all the time. How do they do it? I haven't been to the gym and have eaten whatever food is at hand. I don't have time for elaborate meals or shopping for beautiful foods. I don't have time during the day to sit and wonder. Life just passes me by.
Whaaaa, whaaaa, whaaa.
It is a very good thing that I became what I did and didn't become what others around me had to. I would have been a criminal for certain. I would not have worked the way the bosses want. I'm sure I would be in prison.
There are refugees paying smugglers to get them anywhere other than where they are. They are willing to work all day and half the night just to escape from the nonstop terror of their lives. They will trade with me. They would feel like Donald Trump.
Me? I'm cranky. I don't have time to wander about taking photographs. I don't have time to hang out in the studio. I don't have time to drink coffee and write my blog. I have to go to work.
There is never enough. All we ever want is more.
One more cup of performance enhancing coffee and a shower. Man. . . I have it bad.
Did I mention Trump? All I'm sayin'. . . .
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