The people down the street want so much to get out of the neighbourhood, they're taking the entire kitchen, along with the kitchen sink.
Some days time is actually molasses, you can actually hear the slow grind of gears in your head trying to produce something remotely meaningful. You find that your eyes don't quite focus as fast as they should, and you find yourself cursing under your breath for making a stupid mistake just as you make a second, then a third. Then you just feel stupid.
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