I lean back in my chair, papers surrounding me like a wall threatening to crush me. Another sleepless night, another pile of contracts left untouched. The only comforting thing are these panties I'm wearing. About a year ago, I started borrowing my wife's now and then, and three months ago, I decided to buy my own. We haven’t made love since… I can’t even remember. The only thing keeping us together is the kids. At first, I hid it. I was embarrassed she might find out I was stealing one or two to wear under my serious, formal clothes. But now I don’t care if they show when I’m home. The basement has become my safe place. No one but me is allowed down there. I sleep there.
In the middle of my insomnia and despair, I end up browsing ridiculous websites until a strange page pops up: “Need help? We'll send you an intern.” It only asks for my address. I laugh and scoff, and right before closing the tab, I type it in. After all, having someone help me put this place in order wouldn’t be the worst thing.