Yesterday when I came home from the restaurant, I just wanted to go to sleep.

But no, I can't even have a good sleep.

Someone called from my second job, saying that I have to come because someone got sick.

I didn't even have time to take a shower. I just changed into some clean clothes and sprayed some collagen all over myself.

Gross.

But taking shower would take some precious time. And time is money.

Jeeesus, I so sure someone is like "But money doesn't buy you happiness!" or some shit like that... But does Elon Musk look sad? Kylie Jenner? Huh?

Yeah, just what I thought.

And another thing - money might not buy happiness, but it gives you freedom.

Man, how much do I want to be free. Free from work. Free from stress. Free from stereotypes.

One day, I'm gonna be free.

And that though is the only thing that makes me get up in the morning, or makes me go to a dirty club after a long day without taking a shower.

Darn it, this freedom better be worth it.

* * *

Walking into the club, I tried not to pay attention to the loud music and all the sweaty bodies. Once I got into the staff room, I changed, locked my things in my locker and returned to the entrance. There was already a long line of people formed, all of them wanting to get in.

I never understood those people. They just wanted to waste their time by drinking and dancing. I mean, once in a while it's acceptable, but there's a thin line between enjoying your youth and destroying your future. Most of them are crossing that line without knowing it.

But who am I to judge? As long as I get paid, I don't really care.

1 minute.

2 minutes.

5 minutes

10 minutes.

I've been here for 10 minutes and it's already feels like hours.

I really wish someone would start a fight, so I could watch it and cheer.

Wait, as a SBS, I'm not supposed to cheer while someone is fighting, right?  Nah, who cares. Boys just wanna have fun, too.

Around half an hour later, bored as hell, I caught a glimpse of something.

Long jet black hair.

Her.

It was her.

She was here, right now, standing in the row of people, waiting to get to the club. She wasn't alone, her friend was with her, but I couldn't care less about her.

What was she doing here? Of all the places, why the hell here? This bar is not even good. It needs some retouching, better drinks and music, and the toilets have life of their own.

"Hi!" some girl approached me.

"Hey," I said without looking at her.

"You single ?"

"Yeah, my wife is 17, we have 2 sets of triplets and we both have STD, " I replied, hoping to get rid of her.

She frowned. "You're kidding right?"

"Of course I'm not. Why would I lie about such intimate subject?"

She was blond. The only thing I had to do was to make her feel like idiot. And now, looking at her confused face, I was on the right path.

"So you really have STD?"

"I do," I replied calmly.

"So you're gonna die!" She said and I could see tears forming in her eyes. She must've been wasted.

"Yeah, sooner or later. Everyone will eventually die..." 

"Everyone will die... OH MY GOD! We're gonna die!" she screamed and run somewhere.  And this  is why i don't like alcohol...

"Hi again," the girl that has been hunting my mind over the past few days said with a smirk. 

I was so caught  up with that vodka-bestie that I haven't noticed the queue moved a little forward.

"So we meet again," I replied with a smirk similar to hers. Funny, both of our smirks seemed to be hiding something.

"You work here?" she asked. Hmm. I was standing in front of a club, letting people in and making sure no-one gets in without permission. OF COURSE I WORK HERE. But she was probably already tipsy, so i decided to let it slip this one time. 

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, may you meet as little tipsy girls as possible," she smiled at me  and entered the club.  

My boss let me go home short after that. She was still in when i left. I wanted to find her and make sure she is alright, but my eyelids were so heavy I was afraid I would't make it home alive.

I went to sleep worried as never.

***

It was 10:32 AM when I woke up.

Wait. 10:32?!

Why the fuck didn't the alarm wake me?! 

Oh, it's Saturday.

Why does this have to happen every single week? 

But thanks God it's weekend. I finally have time for a proper breakfast. 

I don't know how about you, but to me, proper breakfast means eggs, bacon, vegetable, bread, cheese, ham.

Now that I look at it, daaamn, I eat a lot.

It was 11:30 AM when I finished my breakfast.

I know, I know, it's weird to put 11:30 and "breakfast" into one sentence, but who cares?

If you care, let's pretend you don't, okay? Just let me have my Saturday breakfast, okay? Thanks.

Eversince I have job, I kinda hate weekends. I'm not doing anything useful most of the time, and I just feel useless. I know I should rest, but I can't. It feels like wasting my time.

Today, I went to gym, cooked lunch and cleaned the flat.

It was still only 4:44 PM.

I was bored. I can't even watch a movie, because I lose focus after 10 minutes. The Simpson are an exception. Sometimes I think I have ADHD.

Maybe I should go see my doctor. Maybe I should go now, just to entertain myself.

Come to think about it, my doctor doesn't work on weekends. But why? What if I was dying on a Sunday morning and needed him? Ignorant...

I decided to go for a walk. That might kill some time.

* * *

I was walking around the neighbourhood for a while, and somehow my legs led me to a library. I haven't been to one in ages. I almost forgot how it feels to get lost in between the pages.

I decided to go for a classic. The old man and the see. And The Frankenstein. And The Great Gatsby...

After that, I went straight home, took a shower and fell asleep with opened book in my hands...

Old books>>>