You’re Nobody Til Somebody Hires You
Mike balled up his shirt and with the flick of his wrist launched it onto his already-full hamper, which it promptly tumbled off of onto the floor. He groused every foot-dragging step to the corner of his room, picked up the shirt, dropped it back on top of the heap and pushed down with all his body weight. Since moving back in with his parents he made a series of concessions, one of which being that he would do his own laundry – with the conceit that he could wait until his hamper was full. He didn’t miss his apartment that never smelled quite right (or getting the landlord to take blame so he could prove to his parents it wasn’t him), but he missed his routines and he missed the convenience of having everything he needed in a five-block radius. It would be nearly seven months before he was fully recovered (and almost two years before he found a proper job) but he returned to the life he missed, albeit with slightly altered routines.