It Was Just So Sad

2am, sometime in mid to late April 2006

I was sitting at my work station in a mostly deserted studio, my fingers stinging from the indentation made by the ex-acto knife I gripped. I was cutting rectangles, on after another, after another for a model I knew I would never finish. Not before presentation anyway. I kept cutting.

3am

Still cutting the same damn rectangles, barely made any progress. An overwhelming feeling of fear, anger and frustration.

3:10

I could feel the tears rushing to my eyes, the knot in my throat would not go away. I stood up and ran out of the studio, down the hall and to the emergency exit. I sat in the frame of the door, in complete hysterics; sobbing. I couldn’t get a hold of myself. I hated being there, but I couldn’t leave. The more I held back from crying, the more tears came gushing out. I pulled on my hair and my sleeves, I held my head in my hands and cried.

I stopped for a moment to observe a tiny little mouse come crawling out from a crack in the wall. It was so small and cute, and walked out so gingerly as if to comfort me in a way, and it did. For about 30 seconds before it started to close it’s little eyes and gently fall over sideways. DEAD. At which point the tears returned at full force. I needed help, I called Kevin. Waking him up, and through uncontrollable sobs and an undecipherable story of how I killed a mouse, I convinced him to come pick me up.

When he got to the studio, he found me laying on the bench outside the bathroom, sniffling.

To make me feel better, he made a sandwich out of the mouse:

I’m just kidding, thats not my picture.