One of the most awful moments I face is the instant after waking up that everything hits me, the stuff I went to sleep trying to forget. This usually happens while my head is still on the pillow, but once I made it nearly across the room before that suffocating weight toppled me. Although eternally twenty-three, I will be old before my time if I don’t discover the magic voodoo formula for protection from other people’s shortcomings, which plague my life. Why is your problem my problem? My reflex is to bury myself in my own responsibilities and issues in the hopes that the others will take care of theirs, but this methodology is flawed and actively contributes to the diurnal despair. My soul is worn thin in so many places. I blame this on Best Buy Inner Harbor, poor customer service capital of the world. They know it and they don’t care because they’ve got you where they want you. So you stand and putrefy in Best Buy Inner Harbor reality, which is disconnected from all other reality but somehow just the same.