On quitting my job

It's hard not to go a bit weird when
you stay at home all day. Once
I didn't bathe for four days. Paltry, but
still a wild and exciting break
from society's norms. I went
to the grocery store with greasy hair
tied back in a knot, two day old
underwear. I was not hit by a car,
so no one knew. I stayed in my office,
writing poems about how much I hated
people. Eventually filth lost
its appeal, but still these days
I could care less about my lack
of perky smile, my distressing habit
of choosing comfortable shoes. I feel
as though I am returning to
myself, a culture-shocked traveler,
drunk from jetlag, slowly re-inhabiting
the space that used to be me.