J says
Girl, I think we need jobs more suited for our souls.

Perhaps it is my own fault, for dreaming too much, and perhaps it is your fault for pretending I was allowed to dream like this, and perhaps it is nobody's fault, and it's just the way things are. We always want we are not currently getting, only we are not getting what we want and perhaps this is the issue.

My sister is a programmer too and telecommutes, and full of harsh sympathy: Do you think I want to be doing this? Noone wants to work. I have my daughter sleeping in the other room and a kitchen that would love to be cleaned. We need the money, I work. Scant comfort, this.

In my fantasy thoughts, why do I think I will have an easier time finding a job in a strange city and living on a friend's strange couch than I would here? In my dreams I am less picky, less desparate, more focused on me instead of practical future. In these rambling wishful constructions of reality, I have already left, and knowing I need to leave is nothing until I have done it.

If you could do anything, I want to tell her, any job, forget about the actual salary but still a job and forget about saving for your kids. Anything and your own happiness, what would it be? I would be writing and screw saving for a marriage that is not in the works yet. There are other things out there, they do exist.

I want to leave. I want to leave so badly i am crying. Fuck. I need to leave.

At work today the computers and networks are powering off at five. There is probably a message in that for me, only I'm not sure what.

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