Final round.

My new favorite thing in the morning is to lay sideways in bed and let my head hang off the side. You'd be surprised at how nice a little blood to the brain can be. Putting the head lower than the heart just feeds the gray matter and each breath I draw in tingles and invigorates me. 

I look at my stucco bedroom wall upside down and contemplate where I am going to move to and who I give affection, time, attention, and love to. Neurons pumped high on oxygen fire off signals and twitches as a dog dreams beside me, breathing hard in the heat. 

Final round of the auction block with the remainder of my sheep tomorrow and I'm trying not to think about anything. I am looking at a little apartment just north of here and wondering if I should go it alone or not. I wish the stucco walls would spell out the best answer, or maybe they are but it's not what I want or it's not easy. The robins sing a rather boring song, a dog in a crate whimpers from his full bladder. I contemplate hot coffee on a day that's already hot. And I think I might lose my job. 

I guess it wouldn't be lost. It just wouldn't be mine anymore. I'd know where it is. I just wouldn't be there too. 

The -just do your fucking job- guy is getting preferential treatment over me. When given three tasks and a raise, he has not come through with any of his tasks. But somehow that's turned into me being a bad manager. Not that he's lazy and evasive and doesn't listen to me. 

I am spent. Coming off a 50+ hour work week, I halfway welcome just getting fired. I could sling coffee at a place up the street or be a case worker for schizophrenics. Somewhere that I could go to work and go home at the end of the day without having screaming phone calls where I try to fire people but I am not permitted. 

I am wound super tight, working with a guy who freaked out on a customer so bad she complained via email to my boss and even though I wasn't there, it's my fault, not my disgruntles employee. 

So now I hang my head off the side of my bed and think. 

I need to move. My last apartment manager didn't fix anything. I don't have a key to one of my doors. My ceiling in my kitchen leaks when it rains but my drains don't actually drain. Minor annoyances in my mind. But now I have a new apt manager who has an affinity for parking lot parties and late night fireworks. I curl up on my couch as my dog crawls under neath me with that terrified of loud noises face. 

I feel like the grumpy old woman in apt D but when the stairs are filled with people and beer cans I need to step over when I'm getting off a 12 hour shift, yes, I get pissy.

So no sheep. Job going to hell. Indecision abounds still. Whining dogs. Little sleep. Hot as hell. And packing yet again. 

Yes. I will make coffee this morning. I will look at apartments in different neighborhoods and not think about it too much. I will dream of sheep and one day having a place of my own to keep them. I will walk the dogs, feed the cat and buy some strawberries to make jam with. I will put my head under my heart and feel the stress dissipate with every day off because fuck, it's my only day off this week. I need to go out and enjoy it.