I’m she.

It all happened while she was closing the front door.

“SHITTTT!” she yelled as the banana shake in her hand went splat onto the rug.

It wasn’t supposed to be banana, so maybe it was for the best. She had ordered vanilla and artificial banana flavoring was never her speed. She couldn’t believe how the styrofoam broke into so many parts. Wasn’t styrofoam supposed to be a bit more robust?

“Thank God no one really cares too much about this rug“, she muttered while grabbing a black towel and wiping it up.

She almost cried. She felt like a child. The dead cherry from the shake that ogled her from the trashcan was the literal cherry on top of a long, tiring day. “Am I a shake addict, or am I just wound too tightly?” She pondered the question seriously. She decided that she was both.

She wanted to write more tonight, but she could feel her battery going into the red zone. The danger zone. So she decided she’d stop referring to herself in third person and bury herself in a blanket.

There’s no need to say “the end”, this is just a pause. See you tomorrow.