I am fine

I wake and feel the all-too-familiar weight of life on my brain, the dark cloud has returned. 

I am fine. 

I will myself from bed, robotically dress and prepare for the day. 

I am fine. 

I stand at the door, do I really have to leave the house today? 

I am fine

I push my body - one foot in front of the other - to the car and away we go. 

I am fine. 

I don't normally drink coffee, but it suddenly seems like a good idea - jumpstart the brain, yes, I say and join the snake of cars at Starbucks.  It is bitter to taste. 

I am fine. 

Smiles and chatter assault me as I find my seat and setup. 

I am fine. 

I answer the many questions about weekend and current weather with no memory of what was said. 

I am fine. 

I stare at the screen, joining all meetings via Zoom, why am I here? 

I am fine. 

Problems arise that are quickly addressed, my stomach grumbles. 

I am fine. 

I avoid the lunch invitations and sit quietly in my car in a parking lot down the street, consuming food that is not good for me, but is greatly satisfying today. 

I am fine. 

Afternoon meetings whiz by as people flee the building early to 'avoid traffic'. The office is now quiet with most gone. 

I am fine. 

I force myself to wait until after 5 to leave, creeping out the back door to avoid the remaining prisoners. 

I am fine. 

Traffic is a mess, but easily navigated. The car returned safely to garage, I close the door behind me and flip shoes across the room. 

I am fine.