I wake up, check e-mail, chat with whoever happens to be on AOL for an hour or so, then go running, shower, write for a couple of hours, and then I'm off to work. After work, I'm back home to update, and then off to bed. It's the same every work day. Sundays are usually laundry and visiting with the family, and Mondays have been a lot of running around trying to figure out what to do with myself, finally giving up towards evening, when I go over to Lee's house. In all, it's not a bad routine.
Work is fine.
I don't actively hate it, they pay me well enough, and I'm proud of the work I create. I feel as if, somewhere along the line, all the forward motion in my life came to an abrupt halt. And since then, I've pretty much stopped time. Whatever changes have been made in my life, they've come from outside forces, and I've just bobbed along on the waves, letting them carry me wherever they wanted. It's a hard thing to describe, because on the surface, I look like I'm going somewhere.