My windshield is painted with a hazy burnt orange sky and the air is intensely warm for mid-December. The steering wheel slips from my grip so I shake them out and reposition my palms. As the road in front of me stretches further, I tilt my eyes down at the speedometer. 35 mph. The bright light from my mom’s phone illuminates her face in the passenger’s seat. 55 mph. 

We’re driving away from home down the main road. The sky is thick with clouds and a darker black ink now, seeping its way into the night. 60 mph. There’s a light drop in my stomach and I can tell we’re moving slightly downhill. I take a glance again at the speedometer. 83 mph. I move the ball of my foot lightly over the breaks. 

The pickup truck in front of me magnifies in my view. 83 mph. I press my foot down harder. The air seems more concentrated and my palms feel slicker. I move my hands higher on the wheel. “It’s okay, just slow down,” my mom mutters, still staring down at her phone. I push my foot down harder this time. 85 mph. I switch to my left foot on the pedal and slam the breaks. 85 mph.... 

I’m not sure where I am when my head jolts up at the ringing of my alarm, even though the rational part of me is certain I haven’t strayed far from my house for months. 5:20 a.m... I change quickly, eager to get to the pool for swim practice. 

8:59 a.m... I cradle my espresso shot in my hands, swallowing as much as possible before dismissing my tired eyes and unbrushed hair in the Zoom video preview. 9:00...9:45… I peer at my laptop screen to check if anyone in the breakout room has their camera on. 

Relieved and unsurprised, I turn to continue to work on my own. 11:30...1:45…2:30 p.m. I smile and wave goodbye before clicking “leave meeting”. I feel empty. No, not empty--hungry. Did lunch end already? I fish through my brain for a memory of going downstairs. 

With the half dozen mugs hoarding my desk and the idea that coffee was just as good as food, I let the homework commence. My gaze trails on my grade summary long enough for me to debate whether my less than spectacular grades don’t bother me because they don’t necessarily seem tangible anymore or that I just don’t care as much about anything anymore. 

3:00...4:45... I repeatedly tap the back arrow on my keyboard and sigh as the lecture rewinds and I scold myself again in my head for zoning out. 5:30...6:00…Tossing my planner aside, I search “Amazon'' in my browser. I search for baking supplies, colored pens, post-its, candles, books, water bottles, textbook stands, mugs… I could always use more mugs right? 6:30...7:00...The satisfaction from pressing the “place order” button only lasts so long. It doesn’t quite replace the kind that completing my homework should. I pick up my phone and ring the group Facetime. No response. Dinner sounds good right now anyways. 

8:00...9:30... I find instead my “recently watched” list on Netflix and choose Grey’s Anatomy again. I recite the lines with the characters for the first couple of episodes of season 2. 10:30 p.m. I should get to sleep now anyways. It takes me an extra episode to persuade myself to open Snapchat and respond to some people. I turn on my alarm for 5:20 a.m and when I wake the next morning, I am speeding again, my life slipping out of the control of my sweating hands.