Walking Around

One of my superpowers is the ability to take things that are extremely simple and make them into a whole ordeal. For example, just walking around from place to place requires much more planning and thought than any mentally stable person would put into it. I need sunglasses so people can’t see me staring at them; some smokes (for the social anxiety, certainly not addiction); lip balm and lip gloss; PKW—that’s phone, keys, wallet; some airpods or headphones or a person to talk to; and at least $50 in my bank account. I also need a bag to put all those goodies in. On the off chance I am going out to a bar or place I will need something to entertain myself in case I get bored or tire of being social—usually my tiny hands or a fake knife to fake slit my throat with and then dramatically fake die with fake blood fake spurting out of my fake wound. After this, I make my great escape back into the comfort of my apartment, having depleted both my social battery and my bank account. Of course, then I must empty my bag and sprinkle all those little things around my room, so I am forced to look everywhere for them the next day. And one last thing and then I swear to god I’ll shut up about this forever, no, I won’t make this easier for myself, otherwise, how would I get to complain about it?