The walk to the office is a blur, my thoughts consumed by the impending meeting. The city buzzes around me, people rushing by, caught up in their own lives.
But I feel isolated, trapped in my own head, the noise of the world muted against the roar of my anxiety.
“I have to get through this,” I tell myself, but the words feel empty.
The office building looms ahead, a familiar sight that feels strangely foreign today.
I swipe my badge at the entrance, the beep echoing in the silence of the lobby. The elevator ride feels interminable, each floor a reminder of what’s waiting for me.
When I finally reach my desk, I find a note from my supervisor, a simple reminder of the meeting time.
“10 AM sharp,” it reads, and my heart sinks.
I try to focus on the tasks at hand, but my mind keeps drifting back to the meeting, the landlord, the rent hikes.
“I’m just trying to keep my head above water,” I remind myself, but the words offer little comfort.
As the clock ticks closer to ten, I feel the anxiety build, a rising tide threatening to overwhelm me.
But I know I have to face it, to confront the issues that have been chipping away at me.
With a deep breath, I stand and make my way to the meeting room, each step feeling like a step towards the unknown.
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