Beep. Anxiety has reached capacity.

Just had awkward conversation with building manager about politics, move-out date and cleaning requirements in the middle of attempting to syringe-feed a deathly-ill rat and after a night of poor sleep and unwell girlfriend. Felt my internal anxiety meter -tick- that last notch to full as soon as I say back down. I'm managing externally calm, but I am so flipping out right now. The cleaning is a horrible worry of mine and the paper I have been given suggests that I am responsible not only for my own considerable mess but for the cleaning failures of the past umpteen residents. Seriously - "dust and wipe down the radiators?" The radiator has gone unpainted for decades and has sediment in it. My irrational desire to build a fort and hide in it - rising.

Times such as this make me very, very glad that I don't have a regular job. They handle stress fits poorly at those. If my responsibilities were not so few, I think I'd be darned well useless. ^_^;