I feel unready
◊ I am tired and out of ideas for class and mostly broke and very hungry and it looks like a Salvation Army truck exploded in my apartment. There are piles of clothes that reach to my knees and I can't be bothered to look at them. The dishes are this close to forming a militia to defend themselves against my impending bleach attack and there are things in the fridge that have been there since at least the middle of the summer and I'm scared to even move them, let alone throw them away.
I want to bury myself under the electric blanket that I excavated from the closet and spend the next week doing nothing but eating chocolate and masturbating.