You’re tired. But it’s only 4pm.

Pull yourself together, you say to yourself.

You rub your entire face hard with your hands. Your palms knead your cheeks into your teeth, pulling them over your lower jaw and away from your eyelids. Your thumbs massage your cheek bones and the pointy bits of your ears. Your fingers scrape your brow into your eye sockets. It’s dark in here.  You see splashes of purple and green. Concentric pulsating tie-dye rings.

You squeeze your fingers harder. Your skull begins to break under the pressure, like a chocolate egg on Easter morning. The soft red yolk seeps out between your phalanges as the bones cave in.

That’s better, you say to yourself.