The office is extremely quiet right now; I can hear the mum of a radio in the background. The sun fell behind the mountain about an hour ago, and I’m sitting in the quiet, staring at the clock on my computer screen. I’m not sure anyone even knows I’m here, tucked back in my corner cubicle. I’m at work, though it’s 8:44 p.m. I started my evening shift this week, but I’m already looking forward to going back to my regular shift next week.
There is something depressing about the evening shift. Usually by now, I’m cuddled up next to Husband on the couch, watching Gilmore Girls. However, I’m at work, and he’s at home, awaiting my arrival. It’s odd to say this, but I don’t really miss him during the day. (I mean, I miss him when I’m not with him, but I can get through the day without seeing him.) This night thing, though? Even though I’ll be home shortly after 11:00 p.m., I miss him terribly right now. I’m pretty sure he misses me, too, since he text saying Loki misses me.
So far, I’ve done anything to pass the time. I finished my required work for the day by 6:00 p.m., so I’ve been looking at school work since. Unfortunately, I’ve almost completed everything that is due within the next two weeks (aside from an English paper in which I’m feeling none too inspired to write).
Mostly, though I love my job, I’m looking forward to this outage ending (in a few weeks, if all goes as planned). Tonight, though? I’m waiting for my clock to say 10:45 p.m. so that I can (quickly) walk through the dark pathway to my car and head toward home and Husband’s welcoming arms.
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