1.

I brush the stray strand of hair out of my face with my fingers and look at myself indifferently in the mirror. Nothing fascinating today. Just regular me. I finish applying my lipstick, touch up the corners, sigh and walk out to the living room. Pulling on my cardigan, a feeling of regret tingles in the pit of my stomach. Two years ago today, I started down this path of misery and I want out. Enough is enough. I grab my car keys and purse, stop to kiss each of my dogs on the head and head out the front door.

Dragging my feet on the asphalt out to where my car is parked, I start to feel the all too familiar feeling of angst and anger, mixed as one. I climb into the car, pull the seat belt across my body and start my car. For just a minute too long, I sit there, car running, questioning my choices. Why did I think this would be a good idea? Was I that desperate? Sighing once more, I put the car into reverse and back out of the driveway.

As I drive, a thousand thoughts run through my mind, anger boiling deep down inside of me at how deep of a rut I’m in. No matter how hard I try to claw my way out of this hole, I can never quite grasp the edge of it to pull myself up and out. I dread the day’s impending tasks and the thought of what’s ahead boils my anger further.

I pull into the parking lot – the parking lot that belongs to the source of my misery. Checking my makeup once more, I reluctantly turn off my car and grab my things, slowly opening my door, bracing for the events soon to follow. I trudge along the asphalt to the building I’m to be stuck in for the next nine hours of my life and wince as I stick my key into the lock of the front door and open it.

Locking the front door behind me, I step into the cool, dim room. Not a sound can be heard. I clunk along in my heels to my desk, set my belongings down, sit in my chair and sigh once more. Bringing my computer to life, I lean my head back and look to the sky.

There has to be more to life to this.