Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Solitary Confinement

Twice a day I go to a little room near the counselors office so that I can pump. This room contains nothing more than a desk, two chairs, and an empty bookcase. The walls are an institutional mauve-like color, and there is a clock on the wall that (I now realize after all this time) is frozen at 3:58 and 57 seconds. The clock is seems to always disappoint me... First, it doesn't work, then it never got to 4:00!

Now, in this tiny room and with the droning sound of my pump... I'm pissed off that the clock never made it to four. The batteries couldn't wait a measly minute and three seconds!

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