It's time for whine: Can I get a "Watt! Watt!"

I once read (something other than smut) a gothic short story of one woman's descent into madness entitled, "The Yellow Wallpaper." Her obsession with the ornamental design of her room's wall coverings eventually leads to her insanity. Now...embarking on Day 6 of my Corona Captivity, I can totally relate.

There is a short leading to the light-bulb in my refrigerator. It is not a permanent problem...not unlike my current situation...sometimes when I open the door, the light comes on. Other times, my food and beverages are cloaked in dark despair. What will happen when next I pull upon the handle? I don't know but I find myself peering in...every passing second...even when hunger and thirst fail to drive my desire...I find myself inexplicably drawn to the door...what is going on behind that weighted wall? Will the light come on? If it does...my mood brightens...my spirit soars...hope is illuminated. I take a steadying breath each time before I tug it open...fearing the black cavern that could suck my soul into its frigid depths...leaving me in a vegetative state.

Calluses have begun to form as I clench the curved handle...like a weapon to wield in an
uprising...except the uprising is coming from within. Within me. Within the refrigerator. Follow the light, Amy...NO! Flee from the darkness! Which way do I go? Always forward...always toward the refrigerator. The meat drawer beckons like a mortician's drawer...This is just the wurst...I'm bacon somebody to make this madness stop.