Post Mortem

It’s 22:44, the first time all weekend I’ve had time to sit and think. I should go to bed. I’m on the early shift this week, my alarm will go off in six hours.

Was last night worth it? Yes, Jeremy introduced me to his university friends at last. I cooked, they spent all evening ignoring me. Like being at work. Only worse, nobody at the hospital switches to Latin to make a joke. Jeremy said it didn’t mean anything. They’ve always done it, old habits et cetera.

But I know exactly what it meant: Know your place, pleb.

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