It was in those few moments where he was extremely efficient. Bursting from the couch, realizing he'd lost hours, he got things done. Taking the bottles to the recycling, the boxes to the trash, getting the food into several properly sized plastic containers and into the refrigerator. A quick sweep, a quick cleaning of the table, wiping down the kitchen and bathroom counters. He drew the blinds and locked the door, prepared a small bowl of oatmeal ready for the making come morning. There were clothes piled on a chair that he couldn't leave, though they were already wrinkled, no, those got folded and put away, both loads. He even finished drilling a screw into the wall so he could hang the portrait above his bed, the one that looked like him, because he didn't know where else to put it. And all of it was done in just under five minutes, he didn't have time to stop and think, he just did, before collapsing onto his bed. And it wasn't until he woke up again that he realized that he actually hadn't wasted time, and that if he tried a little harder, he could live like that.
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