Remote work is wonderful in its flexibility. The demands of the company really are put first–and I guess fighting for that spot if your wellbeing. They share first, I guess let’s put it that way. If there’s nothing that needs to be done, it’s against policy to sleep in even a little without permission, but if it’s like really really bad, physically, I have the upper hand. I’m not chained to the job.

What am I trying to say… Well, I stayed in bed until 10 this morning, past my start-work time of 9. It’s also interesting and really cool being able to literally just roll out of bed and, if you don’t have any meetings, get on the computer and start doing whatever, training or analyzing data or what have you.

It does look like the second poet I thought was angry? They’re not angry. But they’re jumping ship, the first who called me a racist is their friend so they’re going loyalty over whatever other values might be competing in this scenario. Eh.

I’m still in the wake-up aftershock. Not really productive yet. I guess that’s one good reason to wake up a little early, if you’re a breakfast person get some breakfast in, groom, de-shock from sleep.

I need to take my morning meds. Mom made me an egg and some toast downstairs, which I want her to stop doing but she refuses to stop doing. Eh.

I think I had the most fun out of anyone with this lit mag, though. As the editor in chief. Doing the most work. It was also the most fun.

I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck with a really stupid 17-page-long SOP that is gonna be in one ear out the other. I have no idea why it was assigned. I don’t even know what the title means. I know what the words mean, but together the words make no sense.

Eh.

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