They’re Watching You

At the end of a workday, I feel like my mind is ready to leak out through my ears and puddle together onto the floor in front of me. I write and I write web content for hours and hours, do keyword research, and regular research on the various topics I have to write about, and various odd jobs and errands. All I really want to do when I get home is collapsed onto my bed, or living room couch if I can’t make it to the bedroom, and pass out. I realize I have to wake up at some point the next morning to go back to work, but I would prefer to remain unconscious for several days and stay undisturbed. But there’s always something else I have to do. I have to get my mail and pay my bills. I have to fix dinner. Some days, I go to the gym. Other days, my girlfriend bothers me and I have to go and spend time with her. I never get the twelve hours of sleep that I really need. I long for a two- hour workday. The next best thing is this book I read about a four-hour workweek. That would be the life.