If I could, I would close my eyes and wish myself into a different life. Because it doesn’t work that way, I read books or watch movies instead. I slip away from here for as long as I can, and when I ultimately have to come back, I do so with dread.

I hate Mondays.

I hope someday I’ll have a life I want to stay in. I would like to give myself that much.

I have no idea how I’ll get there though, if I continue escaping this one every chance I get. I suppose that’s something to think about another night. I have one more hour I can spend someplace else before I have to sleep. I want to make the most of it.