My mind is buzzing from the over-sleeping, cups of coffee brewed too strong, and thoughts about the future, stuck in the present. To be stuck in the present however, is to be stuck in the past. Every moment that passes becomes the past, and the present is an unattainable concept, forever lapsing. Like water pouring from a kitchen sink, the present falls, is no longer new, and is never again. So here I sit, in the past, at 2:08 p.m. on a Wednesday, stuck with my tangled thoughts.

I really need a job. I have a job, as a server, and I’m ashamed. I work at a food-chain sports bar, where I’m encouraged to heavily line my eyes and have my mascara looking perfect, have straightened hair pulled back in a pony-tail and sass that leaves an impression. It’s not the worst job, at times I’ll admit it can be fun, in a superficial, extrovert type of way, but it leaves me depressed. Two months after having received my Bachelor’s in Psychology, and I am a part-time waitress.

I wait for the phone to ring. I want them to call me, as I consider myself a fit candidate, but I wonder if they will. “We’ll start calling people on Monday to schedule interviews.” Well, it’s Wednesday. So I called around noon, shortly after I woke up this morning. There was no real rush to wake up this morning, as there is no real rush to remind myself that I am once again trapped in my forsaken parents’ house, the one I swore I would never return to. A man answered, and I gave him my name and asked about interviews, saying I hadn’t yet received a call. “Her assistant will be calling people for interviews this week.” Pause. “Do you know when?” I asked. “No, sometime this week.” “Okay thanks.” And that was all.

All of this is in the past. Having occurred only moments ago, when I chugged my last cup of coffee; hours ago, when I woke up and called the place I wish to work; months ago, when I felt so proud for graduating college and holding promise the world (and employers) would view me as accomplished. It’s all the same, cemented in the past, the same past that decides my future. I wait for it.

Waiting for it is hard. It leaves me bitter and impatient. I feel weak. I want to spend my time asleep, but sleeping is a placeholder for facing reality once again. The future beckons, and mocks me. I inch closer to it every minute, trapped between it and the past in this abyss considered the present. I am stagnant. I am the collected drops falling from the faucet of the sink, running water spinning down the drain. I never fall to the pipes, but I am constantly lingering at the metal bottom, waiting to fall but never doing so.

I think. I think about all the courses I’ve studied, A’s and B’s I’ve earned in classes, C’s I’ve gotten on tests, D’s I’ve gotten on certain papers. Even then my mind was buzzing. I don’t even smoke *** anymore, but it seems I was better off then. I had a purpose. My schedule was to work, study, and complete assignments. I could socialize as I felt able and appropriate, and the past made my present validated. My presence in the present is absent. I yearn for those days, and consider going to school again. I stall in my thoughts and remind myself that I don’t have the money to go, nor the desire to take out more loans. I would need to study for the entrance exam. My mind, while buzzing, is mush. Even my vocabulary is lacking. I’ve lost the ability to think critically, and I waste my days in routine, bored and struggling to look forward. The days blend together. I don’t work until Saturday. The time is 2:25 now