Hell is Littered with Scotch Tape and Paperclips

As I avoided the shower this morning, writing here and making myself late, I twittered the following:

“It’s Friday” they’ll say, “and we’re off on Monday!” I’ll smile as though another Monday won’t come, and maybe go cry in the bathroom.

Half prediction of the future, half riff on what Scott told me last night in an attempt to quell my anxiety. All I know is that the monotony and the muted blue hue of the walls is making it very difficult for me not to have a panic attack. A ceramic shell figure someone here gave me for Christmas looks ripe for the throwing, but I stay still and stare desperately into this screen.

Sip sparkling water. Wonder how to spend my 30 minutes of freedom.

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