She opened her eyes and realized the day is here. Some light glowing through her tiny basement window, we're lucky to just have some glow. That's the Pacific Northwest alright. Seasonal depression is a trend, you know? She knew she had an obligation today and she had to at least somewhat prepare for whats to come. She didn't want to get ready, she wanted to lay in bed with her kitten and imagine life without rules and regulations, bills and break ups, roommates that make too much noise and the dripping furnace in her room. She noticed she wore her red robe to bed and had total bed head (she always had a mirror right next to her bed, secretly to check up on any imperfections to avoid for the day). She got up, dragging her slippers on the floor and hardly dealing with the sun in her eyes. She went for her fridge hoping there was something to eat in it, gave up and sipped some orange juice (it's been days since she has...). She returned to her cave of a room and grabbed her raggedy make up bag. She hated this process, this wasn't her. It was uncomfortable to wear eyeliner, getting into her eyeballs, it's just not natural! Sliding pale pink lipstick across her lips and puckering up into the mirror with only a somewhat decent effort. Yes, she's crazy, I'm not sure Courtney Love status crazy, though. She put her hand on her neck and remembered last night. Full of regret even though nothing happened. She looked at her neck through the mirror trying to find evidence of her lover. Nothing was there, not even the feeling of soreness. But why? All the sudden she feels it come on. Get ready, it's time for a panic attack! It first starts with a tightness in the chest, heart pounding and you feel it in your head, trying to breathe and realizing this *****, and then the wake up call that something is wrong, closing in on the throat and the feeling that this will never end. She goes to her medication bottle and realize there's only 4 left. Knowing this tragic news, she questioned whether or not this is a big enough crisis. She felt like a fiend anytime she took them, or needed them because that's what her twisted psychiatrist put in her head.
She takes the pill, downing old water from the night before. She sits down on her bed and turns her computer on. Fidgeting and fill of worry. Sigh. I don't want this day to begin, if yesterday wasn't over. Let's avoid the mellow dramatic and move on to what I have to do. She then goes for her underwear drawer and picks out the pinkest, frilliest piece of underwear she could find and of course, all the rest of her body was bare. She never liked wearing them, let alone clothing. They were uncomfortable and it wasn't that desirable to wear it all for other peoples eyes. She wants to stay in her male boxer shorts that are a little too big for her. She then slid everything on so fast. Look at the time 2:09 PM, just a few more minutes until it starts. She logs in automatically and sits down, adjusts the lights and makes sure the camera is working. She prepares herself.

Later on she now is under the blankets trying to forget what she did today. The aching pain never going away and it is constantly in her mind on how she is alone, with no one cradling her or telling her its okay. She knows that she needs to make the money, in order to live, but if this is living, what is life? It's okay though, she made 1,800 gold coins today and that covers rent. Rent, credit card bills, always checking her balance freaking out that she doesn't even have bus fair to get food or go on interviews.

This is a sob story, about someone who is ultimately ridiculous and very very very determined.