It is Friday, which is good, but it needs to be five and it is not, which is bad. I find that I am in desperate need of distractions. I want others to amuse me. I want to be elsewhere. I am just biding my time, trying not to bite my lip or the inside of my cheek, which I sometimes do when I’m nervous, which I sometimes get when I have too little to do. It’s been a difficult week, and I just want to go home, but those thirty minutes to quitting time suddenly seem like forever.