It starts with a stir: ANXIETY

Usually, it starts with a stir.
A little poke inside my chest as I am sitting at my claustrophobic cubicle, surrounded with piles of articles and books. It turns into a small voice, a relentless one, that climbs its way to my already overloaded head. Then, I feel my breath grow faster. Soon follows my heart. This is it. My cubicle swinging, my desk swerving up and down... I know I need to catch myself before it gets out of control. Thoughts and words swirl around my head. OMG, I'll never pass these quals? Will I miss something important during fieldwork? How about this conference deadline, did I miss it? Oh, will I be able to grade undergrad exams by Friday? I can't believe I only read three books in three weeks... that means I have another 5 left to go through! IN A WEEK...
Shouldn't I get some sleep right now, if I want to make up for last week when I only slept 4 hours a night for 5 days in a row? Is there a way I could photocopy this 800-page book? Btw, I should have skipped laundry and focused on finishing typing this paper...

Inevitably, my stomach chooses this time to grumble. I mean, when was the last time I ate? 9 this morning... But it's 6 p.m.!!! OMG, and I still haven't finished this article I started reading at noon!! Why am I so slow?
Well, shouldn't I be eating something for my brain to function?

As I fumble with my belongings and try to rise up from my chair, a loud pain on the side of my forehead calls me back to my senses. The migraine I had managed to keep under control since the night before by swallowing a few ibuprofen extra-strength pills is slowly coming back to the surface.

And this is precisely the time that my cell phone chooses to ring. A loud, irresponsible tropical-techno song. I brush off the frustrated looks of my colleagues at the neighboring desks, and dash out of the library.
Outside, the cold minus 40 degree wind reminds me of how cozy and warmy my apartment is. I mean, shouldn't I be going home anyway?
Let's call it a day. I need to take care of myself: eating and resting are physiological necessities.

As I walk past the central library building, it suddenly dawns on me that I haven't photocopied a thee-hour reserve book and risk a huge fine if I don't return it in the next 10 minutes.

Of course the 10-min stop at the library turns into another three hours shifting through library shelves and grudgingly admitting to having to read another 40 pages of a condensed theoretical blabla article...

Pfff... By the time I get home, it is 8:30 p.m.
And it all started with a stir.