A Girl in a War

I sat down. I should have left 15 minutes ago, but I sat down. The dog is sitting on top of me, okay… just near me, and I could use that as an excuse, albeit ridiculous, for why I haven’t gotten up. But I know I just sat down. I could explain - really. Ten hours of work. Two of them in the sun, two of them comforting dying dogs. Half an hour watching blood drain out of a kitten. The other half furiously scrubbing a washbin with bleach and my tears. All with a hangover. Okay okay, yes I know. I sat down, and I’m fifteen minutes into a luxury I can’t afford. I could persuade you that in a just world, I should not have to get back up again. That this evening out isn’t worth my trouble, my love or time. I could do a very good job of this. After all, we live in a selfish world and I’m banking you’re one of the thousands who believe in entitlement for mediocrity. I could make you believe that doing what is best for me is really what I should be doing. Hell, I could write a philosophy on why I should not stand back up. 

Ok fine, I’ll stand on these tired legs and cover up these dark circles. My footing has been secured.