No more Collin. No more Bob. All I have in my company now during these long nights are Eleanore’s scissors and loud rap music; Kim’s incessant complaining and motorcycle discourse.
Look how sad those chairs are! Just sitting there, no one to move their wheels, static and empty. EMPTY. EMPTY LIKE MY HEART.
I might kill myself. Or find another job. Right now I’m too lazy to achieve either, so probably I’ll just whine a lot about being bored and alone and abandoned.
You know, the usual.