shameless wallowing

School starts again tomorrow. As hard as I'm fighting it, the same old stress is hitting as if no vacation had happened. There's a rock in my chest. I'll hide it well enough, I know. I'll do my job, I'll pretend it's great. I'll lie to everyone and myself well enough to fool most of us. I'll deal with the sleep disturbances again. I'll deal with the killer dull routine. I'll deal with the fact I can do this job in my sleep. I'll deal with the same problems, the same solutions, the same sucesses, the same everything. I'll deal with the concept that boredom = death. I'll squash this down enough that I'll get through. My question is how can this be life? It is for most people, most don't expect too much. Here's to another 5+ months of complete fiction. Just not really good fiction.