4
I walked out of the university café into the street and took a deep breath. My nose wrinkled from the foul smells flooding over the walls. I tried to ignore the stench. I was too wound up for anything to bring me down. I figured I’d better head home and give myself a break. Maybe I was working too hard. Maybe the visions were from exhaustion, not some psychiatric disorder. Maybe I just needed to sleep the whole weekend.
After ten days of working ten-hour shifts, I was relieved it was Friday and I had the weekend off. To keep my spirits high, I had to block from my mind the knowledge that on Monday the summer semester would start, which meant more studying, more work, and more crazy-hour shifts. But maybe soon I’d be working with something more satisfying than coffee grounds and bagels.
