I’ve Been Inside For A Week

I’ve been inside for the better part of eight days. I’ve left my building twice in that span. Once to go to dinner with friends, and once to go to that interview.

And now, I’m starting to crack. It didn’t bother me that I wasn’t going out when I was sick, because I was really too sick to do anything other than sleep and halfheartedly operate the TiVo.

I’m still not feeling 100%, but it’s finally really, really starting to get to me that I haven’t been out, mostly because I’ve done most everything that can be done inside.

I cleaned my apartment, mostly because the Jons came. I saw portions of my floor I haven’t seen in months.

I’ve paid all my bills and realized how financially fucked I am right now (strange coincidence, that). I’ve caught up on an enormous amount of TiVoed material.

I built a wardrobe I got dirt cheap at Ikea a couple weeks ago. I’ve ironed everything that needs ironing and put it in the wardrobe. And I never iron.

I’m too broke to go to a movie or go drive around or go get dinner. It’s too late and I don’t quite have the energy to go for a walk.

And now, I’m staring at the walls. And they’re closing in on me. I have got to get out of here.

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