Who filled my limbs with wet sand? Why has all motivation seeped out from my toes and into the ground, fleeing from me and fighting any attempt at reclamation? Why is my vision inged with grey, the corners growing ever more vignetted? Even items that have brought me joy when I reflect upon their appearing in my future have grown dull and reflect no happy glint as they cross my mind's eye. What immeasurable despair could so swiftly drive the malady into the chilled core of my bones?
Oh, that's right, it's Monday.
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