My responsibilities swarm above me like bloodthirsty rats with wings.
Yes, probably. But I’m feeling a little overdramatic here.
I don’t do well under pressure and lately all my seemingly tedious responsibilities have begun circling overhead and cawing at me.
My answer to the menace?
I draw up in a tense little ball, tremble like an Aspen leaf and screech in bloody panic.
See? I exist solely in overdramatics.
No wonder few tread my way. Who wants vampire bats pooping on their head?