short and defeated. but I'll keep chasing after tuft tuft tuft tuft tuft

12 and a half hours.

It's not as if I haven't worked longer than that (at the grill).
But I hate the grill.

I kept believing until the very last that I would actually get to leave mid-afternoon. At 4:30 when I was assisting Boss at the flat-top I asked him when I could leave (after he'd assured me five hours ago I could leave at four).
Have you seen the crowd of people that just came in?
Then I knew.
I knew that "8-until" meant until the end of time.
Until all rivers run dry.
Until everyone you once knew forgets your name.
This is why my summer ended on August 13th. Until means until you stop caring how you look. Until you stop caring about what you eat. Until you stop caring about sitting down. Until you stop dreaming up plans for your day and instead you work until your feet have swollen and you hobble home in the dark and all you can do is vegetate in front of the TV.
Until you stop painting.
Until you stop trying to contact friend or family.
Until you stop all capability of being able to concentrate on a movie.
Until you just function.

I hate until.
I hate until even though I'm exaggerating my day and feeling sorry for myself (I am not exaggerating August).

But I had an effing lame day.


It's this day that makes me think with a terrible circular feeling maybe I am selling myself short.