Heather

“didn’t check her phone because she didn’t want to know. It happened this way all the time now, that she was no longer able to sleep through the night. She consistently woke up at some awful hour, her mind spinning: about work, about Jack, about Toby, about Toby’s new school and new friends, about the move to the suburbs, or sometimes just about the stupidest things—there was a package of chicken in the fridge that was nearing its expiration date, and so she’d have to remember to do something today with that chicken, and she wondered whether she should get up and make a note about the chicken or if she would remember it in the morning on her own, without the note, and then all the chicken-related recipes she had in her head suddenly sort of unspooled before her, and she thought about which chicken dishes they’d eaten recently, and which ones Toby refused to eat, and which ones were healthiest, and so on and so forth. This kind of thing, at three o’clock in the morning, could occupy her for an hour, this dumb thing about chicken.”
― Nathan Hill, Wellness