Will this discontent breed progression or insanity - Abigail, Day 1

The anticipation for this project got to me Thursday night as I stayed awake two hours longer than I should have allowed just getting my fill of music and Internet before the long days ahead. Stupid I know, like if it were food and I’m stuffing myself so I could be full for as long as possible before my arrival at a desert island. Its funny how we depend so heavily on mundane objects and practices to fill the void in our lives.

Friday morning came to quickly. Luckily I had made plans with my best friend to go out in the morning before either of us went into work. Which helped to an easy start. We drove around and headed to a bookstore to explore some divert reading. Options are limited when you’re not allowed to embrace the world of media and you only have one working leg. On our way out, at the check out counter, flashing at me was a copy of Time magazine, on the cover, Obama’s first 100 days. If I couldn't watch CNN this was the next best thing. After eating we headed back home. I’m a sucker for sleep deprivation, so I took advantage of the silence and slept. I woke soon to leave for work. As I get ready I usually have my television or mp3 player on in the background so as fill the silence. Turns out I can get ready a lot faster without stopping to look at a screen or skip to a fast song on my play list. I avoided the living room were the television blared as my father watched Spanish talk shows. I became anxious and ended up at work a half hour early. The drive there was no help as I’m usually the one to turn on the radio, instead I rolled down the windows and listened to the wind and traffic. I work at a retail store behind a desk, answering customer phone calls and being the store secretary. When its slow and I have little to no extra work, I usually have Pandora open as I work on paperwork. I’m not in a closed room and my desk is completely open to traffic and sounds from around the store, but it was a slow day. The music we play for our customers comes from one area that is far from my concentration and the television screens are blocked from my view (and even if they weren't they display only demos approved by company policy and played in reiteration). So the seven hours past and on the drive home I was imprisoned by the sounds of my father’s favorite radio station 92.9 Esterio Latino. Don’t get me wrong, I love Spanish music, but there’s a clear difference between that station and 95.1.

And so the day passed, not to my liking but not as bad as I fear Sunday, my day off, will be. Anticipation once again takes over.