Lethargic /lɪˈθɑːdʒɪk/ adjective 1. affected by lethargy; sluggish and apathetic
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"Can't you see that you're smothering me, Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control? 'Cause everything that you thought I would be, Has fallen apart, right in front of you. " -Numb, Linkin Park (H320 remix)
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WARNING: High levels of angst ahead. Read at your own risk, and proceed with caution.
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MAIN DEDICATION TO hyrule , because fraternizing with the enemy was superlative. because once upon a bathroom stall is hilarious. because i can tell soulmate for sale is going to be amazing. because death of a bachelor is so beautiful and i can taste the angst buildup on the tip of my tongue and cannot wait until she starts writing it. love love love everything she has written
also an honorable mention to ImagineSkyline ~ thANKYOU LOTS you helped me decide an updating method with your advice ( i read your comment and was just like woah- you're completely right)
and, give her new novel a read :)
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I TRUDGE UP THE STAIRS, dragging my feet behind me as I feel the rest of my energy drain. Like a tap that's been left on, it exits my body, making my movements feel sluggish and clumsy. My work purse digs into my shoulder, chaffing the bare skin exposed from my dress, and I switch it to the other arm.
Sweat beads at my forehead as I continue walking up, and I mentally remind myself to call the landlord about the damn broken elevator that seems to have shut down the second time this week. Although I only live on the sixth floor (sucks to be you if you live in the penthouse), walking up six flights of stairs in grating heels (definitely going to be needing Jerry to give me a foot massage, I mentally note) after working for nine hours on a Saturday is definitely not ideal. Especially with the shite day I've had.
I grab the hand rail as I surpass the fifth floor, breathing heavily and trying to ignore my pounding head. I grab my phone and check the time, to which the screen lights up and displays 5:21 PM in block letters. After the events prior, I decided to head home to work an hour earlier than usual. Maybe some people could continue working after having a snarky coworker spilling coffee on their new Valentino dress (damn you Lisa, and your fake-shaky hands. damn you to hell.) but I sure couldn't. After attempting to work for fifteen minutes while the scalding liquid soaked and dried on me, I decided to take off. Lisa, having used her I'm feeling dizzy and that's totally why my hands were shaking excuse had already left, and everyone else was in deep work mode. Deciding not to disturb them, I leave a note on my desk for my boss, gather my sopping hair in a bun and grabbed my bag to make my getaway. I hop in my car and drive about 15 miles above the speed limit, venting my anger through pressing my foot harder on the accelerator, letting the adrenaline kick in. I was in such a rush I didn't bother to text Jerry to ask him to come home (although a massage would be amazing right now) and didn't text my best friend Polly about my day yet either.
