Brick by Brick by Brick . . .
I'll have fun tomorrow.
Or next week.
Or however long it takes for me to earn it.
I did not go out Wednesday night. Didn't have a drop of alcohol. Didn't make any great headway on my latest script draft. And yet, Thursday morning I still woke up too late to hit my narrow gym window before work. I am not pleased by this.
Weekday alarm gets set earlier from now on. Usually wake up before the alarm anyway. Fuck it.
I don't have forever to get my life together. I've got to work harder to get what I want.
I've been living at a lower standard of existence for too long now. It's fine. It's an inconvenience. But I refuse to make a life out of this.
Thursday's child is Sunday's clown.
I'm getting ready for all tomorrow's parties.
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