There’s something in the water. And everybody’s drinking it.
It’s hard to determine a picture from a single puzzle piece.
Sartre writes that hell is other people. Obviously, he had never been here.
I’ve been living the same day for days now. Maybe weeks. I don’t know.
I have doomed us all. It cannot be undone. Again.
I have a routine every morning. Had.
There are men in the men’s room.
I can’t drink from the water cooler anymore. There’s something in it.
I’m not a complainer, but I’m the only employee who shows up for work.