Falling asleep at your desk. Crippling shoulder pain. The tendency to stare into the abyss, coffee cup sagging in hand. Spilling coffee on your keyboard. Getting a green tinge to your skin from fluorescent lighting. Uncontrollable weeping. Sleep-typing. Spilling tea on the kitchen floor. Mopping the tea up with disposable paper towels. Watching your breath fog the third story windows as proof of life. Screaming alone in your car on the way to work. Sudden urges to violence with paperclips. Repeatedly calling IT about the ringing sound in your headset. Hearing the ringing sound on the tram. Viciously elbowing fellow passengers on the tram. Daydreaming that the ceiling vents will cave in and rats will pour over you in an unstoppable wave. Compulsively hitting refresh on your Facebook page. Shovelling cake into your mouth at morning tea like you’re starving. Your jaw hurts from constant clenching. Sometimes you can taste blood for no reason. Feeling guilty for not using your standing desk enough. Feeling guilty for eating too much bread. Reheating half-drunk cups of cold tea. Shaking toast crumbs out of your keyboard every morning. Your face in the mirror is a scratchy, unrecognisable blur.
Notes: Influenced by David Stavanger’s The Special
Lisa Rodrigues 