I keep thinking about the bathroom at work. Sounds crazy, I know. But it's the only place I feel like I can breathe. Just me and the bad fluorescent lighting and the sound of the hand dryer. The real me, I guess. No one expects anything of me in there. No pretending. No 'how are you's that I have to lie through. It's just... quiet. I wish I could live in there. Just lock myself in a stall and disappear. They'd probably miss the project reports eventually. But not me. No one would miss *me*. @Parker gets it. She knows the feeling. We all just go through the motions. Waiting. for what? I don't even know. But I'm tired of waiting. So fucking tired.