anxiety takes many forms. sometimes you lay in bed, cold sweats abound, fearing that the walls are actually closing in on you, for reals this time. sometimes you stand at your kitchen counter with your back to the ever growing stack of dirty dishes and drink half a bottle of maker’s mark, shot-for-shot.

and then sometimes you obsessively clean your bathroom at half past midnight and think about all the homework you should be doing and all the boys that will never love you.

i did the latter tonight. i’d say it wasn’t helpful or productive except that my bathroom is clean.

at some point i stopped thinking, “when will 2011/summer/the quarter/the day/this minute” be over because it never is, you know?