Forcing myself out of bed at 10:30am
and pouring a cup of coffee
our kitchen windows frosted over from
the bitter November air.
I open Twitter. Only bad news. I close Twitter.
My laptop is staring at me from over there.
I grind my teeth and dig my nails into my palms when I open up the PowerPoints
that have been shuffled from today
to next week;
the apathy stands in my way.
My eyes sting with tears that won’t come
out as I stare blankly at the screen
feeling numb from the SSRI I just swallowed it’s better
than feeling full of dread, I guess. What happened to
the girl who always wanted to do her best? And now
she just needs endless rest?
“By the end of this lecture you should be able to—”
—what? Make some toast? Climb back into bed?
Use what little energy and motivation I have to
process the endless stream of evil
that lives rent-free inside my head?
Allowing myself to fall under the blankets and
sipping some water before closing my eyes with
the windows dark, blocking out the world and
I just don’t have the energy,
I’m chained up by this apathy.