Self Serve Gas Station

This is poorly written, but what the hell.

11:30. It’ll take me about twenty minutes to walk there and I’m to start at 1:00, so I have about an hour left before my first shift. I’ll need to shower. I shaved yesterday. I’ll need to dig out some clothes too that don’t look like I haven’t done laundry for a week. Outside, the wind gusts and shakes the trailer. Billows of snow twisting on the road out front and across the open field to the south. Pine trees, sagebrush and weeds alike shudder and bend under it’s force. The dog is unnerved and snow starts to fall. The wind will be in my face when I leave, but at least the gas station won’t be busy.

The line “What went wrong with Martin” is stuck in my head. The irony of my situation isn’t amusing at all. I haven’t felt connection for weeks. I need this winter to end.