My college paper is killing me. I haven’t been able to sleep properly in days, and I haven’t been able to write two pages of everything I need. That job irritates me to the point where I actually consider it more serious to drop out of college.

— Hi, love. - says Carlos, entering the room. He puts his hand on my shoulder and goes to the bathroom.— Okay?

—No, it is not. - I reply, angry, closing the file. — Right is not for me.

— Why do you think that? - Asks Carlos in the bathroom.

— Because I can’t do anything they ask me to do. I...