I'm finally relaxing... One more day then I'm back at it. My neck bends to the right, wilting under the muscles that clamp down and make it tight. I'm a mistress who's sick of justifying the scenario. I'm the secretary who's tired of talking and no one knowing who I am. If I have another person dismiss my hardwork with some twiddling fingers going, "whatever you do" I'll burn the office down. To the ground.
I'm developing that thing that I knew I would... Never leaving the house until provoked, or worse still the internal hype squad talking for hours to get me to leave. I shut the door and breathe a sigh of understanding.
I talk under the influence. I flutter dewy eyes to air out the outward sadness. The wrong people read this stuff and the right people go orbiting away until I forget about them.
I give the side-eye to the Starbucks staff reading this over the counter. I make sure to wipe my drippy nose with my hand before reaching out to get my coffee. Don't be nosey!