yesterday was an actual monday morning that i didn't hate. i woke up and felt guilty about trading in my daily dose of coffee for a cup of hot cocoa with tons and tons of marshmallows. i felt attached to the bar materials that i used to throw against the wall out of frustration. i look for stress now.
my room's gradually getting back its inhabitable state and i wake up without a codal by my side. i have six months of waiting to do and if the bar didn't break me, i keep thinking maybe this one will. everything seems perfect now: no stress, no bar, no cramming. somehow, i can't help feeling that it's wrong and i'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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