I’m at the laundromat right now. I hate the laundromat. It’s hot and I feel like everyone is staring at me. However, it’s necessary, so I go. And it’s probably a good thing, it forces me to get out of the house. I really do hate it here, though. I feel grotesque. I feel like an oddity that people can’t help but sneak horrified glances at. I want to flee.