It's Monday night and we're here by Christmas tree light. Barely hanging on right now, not emotionally but mentally. I feel stupider today than most others, like my words are all syllable-stutters and my sentence, once presented, made so much more sense in my head. Is what I write even reflective of reality? This is my lab, with everything measure out and lined up in sterilized beakers. Squeaky clean. Even my messes look neat once they're bottled and corked.