Sarah walked circles in her head, looking for the next fix of bandaging the worthlessness. Her mind still on the Italian looking indian man, their strange ‘bumping into each other’ seemed more frequent, and less accidental. She pauses. Pulls out a packet of cigs. This is supposed to help calm her nerves. Lights up, and takes the first drag. Smoking is not good for you… the large print on the box is a reminder that no one reads. ‘Sarah… sarah… sarah… ” she thinks. ‘Aren’t we abit old to be starting new bad habits?’ Another drag. Life is a drag, she ponders, ticking of the lists of her routine. “I did nothing productive today, unless you count waking up an achievement”