9:45 p.m. — The pup has a case of the zoomies, and it's serious. He won't let me change my sheets without jumping on the bed, so I finish cleaning my bathroom and vacuuming my room while he calms down. My friend, R., is visiting for my birthday this weekend, and he'll sleep in my bed for the night he's here, and I'll crash with F. or take the couch. I do a face mask and put on a touch of brow dye. I check if my therapist has any openings in the next little while but no such luck. I used to go every week, but my mental health has made a miraculous and well-earned recovery in the last two years following a truly nasty break-up. Now I go once a month as a check-in about work stress and adjusting to life after university. My parents pay ($200 per session), because my insurance only covers one and half sessions per year. I crash before 10 p.m.