As the drudge wears on, I wonder if the mental resistance will collapse eventually. Am I capable of juggling all these brutal burdens? Am I worth the trouble? My capabilities are overrated, and I don't feel the sense of self-worth after misadventure after misadventure. I am weary.
I want to do something more for the kids, yet I am bounded by the very fetters of administrative drudge. I am helpless. Yet, how do the rest cope? I seriously wonder.
I trudge on.
I need to find an alternative to the apparent fate lying in store for me. And this is an occupation I refuse to be quagmired in.
How could even the keying in of remarks be deprived of autonomy? I don't even have that barest of authority, usurped by the process of management itself.
What other scholarly pursuits can I undertake? I need to continue my quaser. But at what price? I wonder again.
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