Drained At Home
Getting home felt like crossing the finish line after a grueling race. The day had drained me—hours spent pretending everything was fine at work, forcing smiles when all I wanted was to scream. I collapsed onto the couch, my exhaustion running far deeper than just physical fatigue. The familiar walls of my apartment felt both comforting and mocking, closing in on me. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind replaying the day’s events on an endless loop, wondering how much longer I could keep up this facade.
Drained At Home
Sarah’s Gossipy Call
As I sank into the cushions with a weary sigh, my phone buzzed. It was Sarah, my best friend. “Heard about the office drama,” she chimed, her voice like a familiar balm. Sarah always had a knack for knowing the latest gossip. We dove into everything—work, our boss, the chaos of it all. Her laughter, warm and contagious, rippled through the conversation, easing the tension I hadn’t fully realized I was carrying. By the time we hung up, I felt lighter, as though sharing just a little had lifted the weight from my shoulders.
Sarah’s Gossipy Call
