Work, I hate you. I know I should feel grateful in these times that I have you. But the only reason I'm staying with you is out of fear and the reality that I don't know if there is something that can replace you. When you ask me if I love you, I say, "Of course, baby," because I am utterly and completely dependent on you. When you demand I spend more time with you, I'll go out of my way to find ways to spend less time with you. I've always said I wouldn't stay with you for the money. But here I find myself with you for the paycheck. Fuck you, work.