All of time, all of existence, had come to a screeching, grinding halt. I looked above to my sworn enemy, the clock. The hour hand rested on the “1”, and the minute hand seemed to nearly move backwards, creeping over the “12”. Four hours had passed as a breath of wind dissipates on a spring day, but the remaining time stretched forward in front of me, a never-ending chasm of impossibility. “What am I going to do?” The thought rang in my head as if the very bells of Notre Dame had been struck in motion in my ears.

It was an understatement to say that I really wanted to go home. I was stuck in the doldrums of the day, with which many of us desk jockeys are all too familiar.

Sure, I could do work, but it was currently in short supply. If only these people would talk to me or something… if only I had something to occupy my time… its like I can feel these walls closing in faster and faster and faster its likeimgionginsaneAAAAHHH!

Oh. Wait. Its 5… Looks like I’ll retire to fight this battle again tomorrow.