My doctor is right on the brink of retirement and doesn't seem to care about these kids and their new-fangled depression so he pretty much prescribes whatever I ask for, and I have one year left to capitalise on all the free drugs I can before it goes back to costing money.
My shower's pretty small but it wouldn't be hard to convince me to seal off the bathroom and just turn it into a wetroom of misery for all of us to hang out in. We can listen to Osip Kozlovsky's Requiem Mass and see who's the first to get a thousand yard stare and start considering suicide for the sake of convenience.
Aka: party at Olin's and you're only invited if you're sad.