smoke-filled corridors

I deal with stress and anxiety and anger by doing chores. Cleaning, wiping, OCD rearranging, cooking - I find myself cooking a complete meal the night before my worst exam.

Now I feel like I could build a fucking house.
Quick, send me to wherever they need volunteers. On the double.

So everything's OK because these red lines and dead skin under my nails tell me it will fade, like all pain will with time.