Bitches Get Stitches

so
i have
pretty bad anxiety.

for the most part,
it’s not too big a deal.
i’m 28 years old now (ugh),
so i’ve had a lot of practice dealing with it

sometimes,
the only thing i need
is to withdraw from the world.
though, that’s become less effective since i became a phd student
as i have work to do literally all of the time,
and getting down with my inner hermit
mostly just makes me feel guilty.

another thing that makes me feel better
is doing something small but special,
bring a little beauty into my life,
ya know?

fresh flowers
the expensive ice cream
going to the movies

things i used to take for granted when someone else was paying.
or things from previous iterations of my life that i miss.
like the iced coffee veronica used to make
when we were roomies in pittsburgh.

which is what i decided to make.
tina bought me some wicked good coffee during my visit,
i can make simple syrup, and cream is easily acquired at any hour.
this would be the perfect way to start my day tomorrow
when i have a dreaded deadline
and my first stand-alone.

as i lay in bed
my unmentionables tumbling away in the wash,
(going commando is not an option for the first day of class)
i opened my windows to let in the summer air
and willed the chemicals in my brain
to level the fuck. out.

then i got this little whiff of something,
something that smelled kinda like cotton candy.
i thought that a bit odd but kept watching netflix.
a few minutes later, a whiff of toasted marshmallow.
that’s what it was! a neighbor must have been toasting marshmallows!

the smell of “toasting”
quickly turned to “burning”
and in that moment i remembered
the simple syrup i put on the stove
maybe fifteen to twenty minutes earlier.

this is the result.
that’s right.
i put something on the stove,
went to my room, and immediately forgot about it.

this is why i can’t have nice things.
and why i’ll be going to starbucks in the morning.