What am I doing in the fridge? I was in front of my laptop, next thing I know… I’m looking for something to eat. I’m not even hungry.
Whatever, no time for food. I need to finish this thing. Let's focus. Concentrate. You've got to concentrate… concentrate… Hello...? Hello...? Echo… echo... Ha, I love this movie. Cracks me up every time. I wonder if I can find the "don't call me Shirley" scene-- wait. How long have I been on YouTube? What time is it? 10 minutes to the hour. Well… 10 more minutes and I start again.
Shit. That was 30 minutes. It's okay. Now we are doing this, for sure. Let me see, what have I written so far... Hmm. Jeez, what was I thinking? This is shit... I am shit. No… stop it. I can make it better. My head hurts. Okay, think… what I am really trying to say? What’s the big picture? Butter or marmalade? I think butter, but do I toast the bread or… do I even have any bread? Wait… what am I doing in the fridge?
What time is it? God, it’s so late. I’ve got to finish this. Stupid headache. Maybe if I take a quick nap. Just fifteen minutes to clear my mind. Start again fresh. Yeah, that’ll be good. Bed or sofa? Bed’s undone. Don’t think I’ve done it in weeks. Let’s quickly do the bed. Damn, these sheets are rank. Should I…? There’s still time, let’s wash them.
There you go, all set. Look at them go.
So, where was I…? Nope, I’m not even getting close to the fridge this time. Nap time. Okay phone, do your thing in fifteen… twenty minutes. That’ll do. Okay. Relax. Stupid sofa, so uncomfortable. Head’s killing me.
What am I doing? I should be working, not lying on my ass. I don’t have time for this. I’m not even tired! What’s the point, I don’t even like what I’m doing. Story of my life. If only I had the courage… so many things I’d like to do. I need to exercise. Getting flabby. Flabby and weak. If only I--
Jesus, that scared me. Stupid phone. Twenty minutes already? Did I even… guess I must have dozed off. Ooh, I got a like. Let’s see. Ha, cool. That’s 29 likes on my tweet. I’m a full-on influencer now. Yeah... you wish. Wait, this name rings a bell. Who is… where did I… was it high school? Oh, yeah... Damn, he’s aged badly. Poor bastard. What’s he up to these days? Hmm. Good for him. Two kids, lovely wife… nice place! And all the while I am in this shithole, with a dead-end job, trying to finish this… SHIT!
What time is it? Dammit. Okay. This time you must focus. No more distractions. It’s do or die. If only I knew what I wanted to say. I’m such a loser. Can’t even write a measly… aargh, fucking headache. This is a bad one. Urgh… When did I last eat? Can’t remember. Maybe… maybe if I take a bite.
Okay fridge… do your thing. You’re kidding me. Cereal it is… again. I just hope the milk is-- Fuck! Oh, God. That is nasty. Jesus. I’m going to be sick. For fuck’s sake, when did this shit expire? Three months ago! Oh my… Where’s the cereal? Anything to take that rancid taste of my… What the fuck? Is there something moving in there? What the hell is going on?
My fucking head, shit. Aaargh. Dammit! Breathe… just breathe. That’s it. Okay. A little bit better now.
I’m never going to finish this bullshit work at this rate. I better call in sick. What is my boss’ number? Here you go. Larry Fucking Cavanaugh. Wait. Why am I getting déjà vu. Did I already… call him? When was that? Feels like ages ago. Come on, think. I… I did call him. He’s always been such a bastard. One of these days I’m going to… quit? No, not quit. He… he fired me? The son of a bitch fired me. How…
FUUUUCK. Can’t… … … move. Head… hurts. AAAAARGH.
* * * * *
Wait. This is not my room. This is… the office? How did I…? Oh God. Oh, my God. Whose blood is this? Am I hurt? No. My ears are ringing, but I’m… I’m okay. Then what…?
JESUS! Why are all these people…? This can’t be happening. I’m going to be sick. Wait. I know those shoes. Larry. B-but… who would do such a thing?
Someone’s coming. They are coming… for me? Why? Think dammit, think! I only wanted to talk to Larry. I wanted an explanation. He fucking fired me; I did not deserve this. I’ve worked my ass off for this company for years and this bastard know-it-all tosses me out like a used rag. How dare he? How DARE you? You son of a bitch, I’ll…
Oh Jesus. God help me.
Steps are getting closer. Soon everyone will know what I did. They will not understand that… it was not my fault. IT WAS NOT MY FAULT… I only… wanted… to finish my work.
The gun feels heavy in my hand. I should have at least one bullet left. Temple or mouth? Surely, you must be kidding. I am not kidding… and don’t call me Shirley.
* * * * *
What am I doing in the fridge? I was in front of my laptop, next thing I know… I’m looking for something to eat. I’m not even hungry.