Thank you (rejoice)

The clock ticks to 7:59, and I’m sipping my too-hot, not-strong-enough tea, trying to wake myself for another 15-hour work day in the middle of my fourth 60-hour work week in a row. Julien Baker plays softly on my stereo, that brutal whisper-shout refrain breaking through the sound of a mother loudly berating her child outside of my car. I sing along in some sleepy admission that there is divinity in this goofy universe, “I think there’s a God and he hears either way, I rejoice and I complain,” and I yawn for the fourth time since parking.

Life happens quickly, unexpected and bold in its pitches and shift changes.
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Thank you (rejoice)