lassudol

He woke wiping rheum from his eyes and feeling that opening them was more labor than usual. Once managed, they did the easiest thing and fixed to the wall, closely examining the number of stipple marks on the ceiling. He thought to himself, what an interesting decision for landlords to paint with texture. It could only make their job harder between tenants.

This was not the first time he had given this particular thought the space to breathe. Most mornings, he awoke wondering about such useless things as what had been on his landlord’s mind when prepping the apartment for him. Allowing himself another few minutes to stare into the void, he gave his mind permission to wander towards the other details of his home: the cracks in the drywall, the framed portrait of his dead mother that rested crookedly on his bedroom wall, and the pile of clothes on his desk chair that collected most things dirty and clean alike.

These were the chores that had haunted his to-do list for weeks now. Perhaps months. Make a maintenance request, straighten the art and photos on his walls, and clean his room: just a few simple tasks. However, he felt he had already diminished his limited energy supplies on the colossal requirement of waking up while still needing to shower, brush his teeth, and comb his hair. Perhaps he could skip the shower. No, it had already been four days since his last one.