I’m A Ball Of Stress In Human Form

Good morning. Fuck, no it’s not. “Mom’s mad at you again.” Ugh. Just start making the bed. Breathe. I folded the blanket the wrong way. Folded it wrong again. Ok, got it this time. Clean the kitchen up. “Where’s the coffee? Didn’t you make it?” The dishwasher is clogged again. Clean, clean, clean! “Sara!” I tripped taking the dog out. “Sara!” What did I touch that fragile shit for? None of my shirts look right. “Look NICE today! You know, like a girl!” I never had a chance to work out. I’ll go for a jog. Twisted ankle. Good fucking luck, now. “Where is your diploma? Hang it up so you look like you did something right!” I missed wiping down the mirror in the bathroom. Yes, I know the cats need more water! I need to get my hair cut again; it’s starting to look too feminine. “Why don’t you have a job, yet?” I accidently threw away the hairspray that my sister needed. I haven’t even had a chance to shower. No point in doing it, now. Look at that fucked up eyebrow I have. “That bra makes your chest look huge!” Thanks, I hadn’t noticed. I vacuumed up my favorite ring. Did I forget about that shitty thing an ex-girlfriend said? Better remember it, now. If I wear those bracelets, they’ll throw off my men’s clothes. “Clean up the bathroom again! Your sister threw up!” Can I have a moment to breathe? One more minute. Time’s up. Move. I haven’t been to the doctor in eleven years. “Imagine if you had three types of cancer and didn’t know.” Tablet battery is dying and the charger is broken. “You’re friends are having more fun than you.” You aren’t losing those twenty pounds. Just fucking give it up. The signal interfered during the videochat with my girlfriend at her military base. How ’bout I cry for once? I don’t have the guts to let myself fall apart. Did I forget that dream where I got dumped? Good old brain will fix that for me! I mixed up the bleach and the laundry detergent. “Maybe if you’d focus, you’d be better at life.” Look at that, I fucked up the dishes again. Still dirty as shit, apparently. I’m going to bed. I won’t be able to sleep until four AM. Maybe five tonight. I won’t be able to text my girlfriend about my nightmares. What was that about nightmares? Oh, you meant this one! The blanket is too heavy but too thin at the same time. I’ll just Google things until I fall asleep. Battery’s dead before I get the chance. I’m just eighteen years of stress packed into a human shell. 

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