I work so hard, these days.
I dive into endless texts and endless interviews in the morning (well, morning for me) and emerge with completed translations late in the evening when my brain finally shuts down. I have this previously unknown, desperate URGE to get the work done.
I don't recognise myself.
Of course, this is no great, new-found love for the job in itself. I just realised that I long to get it over with so I can get on with being unemployed.
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