another day older and deeper in debt

It is something past one am.
I am now home from work.
I work to make money.

Money sustains my many vices.
Music, beer, education.
No particular order.

A few years ago the thickest callouses I had were on my feet.
My toes are soft.
Scar tissue builds itself elsewhere.

I took a trip today.
I shaved my scruff.
I took out my plugs.
I removed my lip ring.

The sidewalk holds patches of ice from the week-old snow.
The air is brisk but I wore a hat.
Also mittens.

The same ten blocks to work.
Eclectic houses.
Leafless trees.
Hydrants.

I used to think curry at the mall was excess.
I serve a cut of beef priced at fifty dollars.
(Before tax).

Off the coat.
Off the hat.
Off the mittens.

I swore at my boss tonight.
I smacked my elbow on a chair.
I called a customer a cunt in my head.

This all seems unsustainable.

This lifestyle.