Something happened.
Or rather, did not.
Alternate phrasing: nothing happened.
Met with this void, my immediate response was to take leave of my senses.
I have been on said leave for over four weeks now.
Some days, I regain consciousness, and I think to myself: this must be what Annie Leonhart felt the morning after she went into the forest.
Yesterdays was one of those many days.
I could feel every cell in my being functioning at below average.
I wanted to write a formal letter asking for more recovery time after executing duties on this certain workspace, on account of the lower oxygen intake for extended hours due to the less favourable atmospheric conditions available, as compared to other types of workspace.
Two minutes into my research, one unreliable source challenged this fact that the entire case hangs upon.
I turned to other forms of distraction.
Today I spilled chia seeds on the floor.
I cleaned up.
Instead of asking why bad things happened to good people, I don't, because I do not qualify.
I had been somewhat exercising my birth right to be in the opposite end of the scale of late.
(Yes, I am taking life lessons from Instagram posts now.)
It drains me, but at least it puts me into perspective.
Can't go wrong with another one of those.
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