A regular work week is usually 40 hours.
I once worked 92.5 hours in one week. That's the sweet part the bitter part is upon returning home I found my house had been robbed. So my good paycheck went to replacing just some things that were stolen.
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Moving on from my best friend.
It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I needed space.
I kept wanting to go back. I kept telling myself I was a horrible person for doing it.
But I'm free now. I regret a lot of it still, but I know that I am a better, more confident person. I am not dependent on her to make me feel worthy.
My close friend passed away the summer before 8th grade. It was unexpected and very tragic. At the funeral, I was asked to release butterflies. I opened the box. The butterflies flew out, and then landed on people. They waited to fly away for a while, flying from person to person. I like to think it was her saying goodbye. I look back on that memory with both grief and joy.
I miss her every day.
the good ole time my brother crashed his car and almost died now im gonna go shut that memory out ma brain