01

Get Sick

The body knew to stop long before you did. Short-circuit the thinking mind before it has to force you.

I was losing my mind in the quiet, modern, fluorescent way where your days all start to feel the same and you cannot remember what you did last Thursday and you find yourself standing in the kitchen with your phone in your hand and you have forgotten why you came in.

By Saturday I was on the bathroom floor at three in the morning with the tile cool against my cheek, and the thinking, the endless thinking, had finally, mercifully, stopped. There was no to-do list. There was no spreadsheet. There was only the tile, and the small sound of the tap dripping, and a strange, unexpected, bone-deep relief.

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