not anxious, just pursued by yellow sticky

I sip a black coffee in today's garret. I've got the creature comforts, but it's still a day that I'm supposed to be able to read the papers and slouch around.

Instead I'm grinding out commercial words to get myself ready for Something Tomorrow.

I've inventoried for signs of anxiety, but only find a yellow sticky with a date and a time.

I know it will be easier to have the thing rather than to talk about what the thing will look like.

Maybe a seratonin boost.

Bright light over bananas.

I know the moves. I throw the yellow rectangle into the bin.