  The light of the hazy sun filters in through the dirty window in my office, casting a glaring gloom onto my desk. I am trying to prep and grade, but my thoughts are distracted. A strange, existential sort of dissatisfaction makes me feel listless, restless. I want to cry, and I am not sure why, except for this amorphous feeling of dirtiness tumbling inside of me and pushing into me at the same time. I am such a sinner. Why can't I love people more? Lord! Sanctify me! 
