Home from Work

I get home from work, turn, lock the door and put my bag down. I should really pack for tomorrow and then do something “fun” or “productive” since that is what that little fucking voice in my mind is telling me I should do. But I sit on the couch instead. And I turn on the tv not to watch tv but to watch netflix and youtube. I watch for a bit and then I don’t want to make the time commitment to another episode of OITNB no matter how good it will be.

I get up, unlock the door, and then lock it again on the other side. Time to walk. Nowhere to go, but I need to go. Down the the foreigner supermarket to buy some beans and wine. Walk back home. How many steps was that? Time to clean? No.

I sit back on the couch and turn on OITNB. Poor a glass of wine. Turn my phone upside down. The little voice in my head is listening. Listening to me unwind. Realizing that I work because I like to work and that is good enough.

OITNB when downloaded locally is stripped of its most delicious scenes and I remind myself to show the full version to a friend. And then I focus on my breath and the show and tell myself to let go. The little voice perks up, ready to play. I ignore it and wonder if that means I am ignoring me.

I fall asleep on the couch, Netflix autoplaying who knows how many episodes. I scramble up the stairs, brush my teeth like a painter scraping walls, and collapse on the bed. Tomorrow will autoplay.