Present (and past) Imperfect. . .
For reasons which I choose not to discuss at this time, words fail me; my energy is sapped. My needs have to be mollified by the infantile use of food in place of love and a hot shower for warmth. I feel my life-force ebbing away. There is no energy to write, let alone to get out of bed in the morning. I could get away with the latter before I started work, but now, I can't. I need every penny. The project ends in December, if I actually make it through, as we are constantly reviewed and if "red flagged" multiple times could be eliminated. This is a very interesting, telling scene. Because of NDA agreements I can't go into detail, but suffice it to say that with the requirements of at least a Bachelor's degree and passing an 'entrance exam' in English (failure in the latter disqualifying us for consideration), we are all of us underpaid in an assembly-line-type situation. I am in good company, though: Together with double-Master's degreed professionals...