![]() ![]() I stand at my window and look out at the large parking lot. A mostly firm grip on my dopamine desires. But I can’t tempt being mistaken for one of them. Despite not having smoked in a year, it makes me want a Marlboro badly. Their cigarettes so strong I can smell them on the eighth floor. Roused out of bed at a strange hour and handed two hundred dollars. Most of them look dazed, in a stupor, half asleep. Not a single one of them looks happy to be here. I get a drink at the bar and find a barstool that offers the best view. ![]() Standing in the muck feels better when the guy next to you is standing in a neck-deep hole, trying to dig himself out with a leaf rake. ![]() I need to feel better about the job I dislike and the considerable upward progress I’ve yet to experience. The elevators are by the front door you can avoid the spectacle if you want. Staying in a hotel casino because it happened to be the cheapest one around that wasn’t a shitty Best Western or otherwise an hour away. ![]()
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