I had a revelation today on my way back from the bathroom. Perhaps it was the new dull white floor tiles that pricked my mind into action, perhaps it was my mind trying to squeeze in a few more thoughts before it lapsed into repressed silence at my desk. The fact is that I came to a startling revelation about my work environment: it looks remarkably like a mental illness ward.

Low ceilings spotted with widely-spaced florescent lighting are propped up by green windowless walls, and dirty looking cheap tiles blandly try to reflect the ceiling light. I know green is supposed to be a calming color; but evidently before one is euthanized by the green one has to suffer hue-induced despair. It is as if the color itself must instill a sense of futility before it assures that futility is the norm.

Right. I need more time upstairs.