Six year anniversary of Melodrama, the album changed everything back when nothing seemed to unlock. (Dear reader, it still doesn’t. None of it ever does.)

The skin on my fingers is all callouses, a cracked and chapped shell of itself. After using my luxury handwash at home for almost three years, the hard, coarse soap in my new office stings the skin between my fingers. A grainy texture taking on where once were tufts of soft, cushy flesh. My hands singe so much I avoid washing them.