You walk into a room...

You try listening to Nick Cave on loop to hum out the background noise and help you concentrate but notice you begin to feel even more tired.

You reach into your bag thinking you've found a snack box of mixed nuts and then realise they're tampons. You don't even have your period, so they're in no way an interesting discovery.

You try to eat fruit, 2 serves a day at least, an in doing so forget to eat vegetables.

You type and your fingers slip changing 'full' committee to 'dull' committee meeting and you wonder how the minutes would have been received by the group if they had gone out with the error undetected.

You write list upon list, a never ending spiralling, Alice in Wonderland like smaller and bigger growing set of lists. To do, to buy, to call. A list of lists to check.

You're wearing 3/4 length woollen sleeves and washing your hands. Water slips down there and your arms are damp. You try taking off the cardigan, but its too cold. You put up with the damp.

You dream about a new lover, serious, dedicated. You dream very specific details of their sexual technique, things you didn't even know you liked.

You henna your hair late at night. It looks like you are attempting to style your hair with melted chocolate. The next day you smell like a warm pot of herbal tea, being served in a stable.

You sit next to someone who is checking their messages on a laptop and laughing, a kind of huffing through the nose, as they hold an unlit cigarette in their mouth.