“Ugh,” she snarled as she walked into the bathroom. “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore,” Petunia said as she waved her hands at her reflection. “That can’t be good,” she chided on her way back to the kitchen. “It’s one thing to not want to talk to anyone else, but to no longer bear conversations with yourself,” Petunia continued as she turned on the tea kettle, “well, that can’t be good.” The water boiled and Petunia made her tea.
According to Penny’s father not only was she not doing well, she was doing awful. According to him Penny hadn’t left her bedroom in three weeks. The fact that he left for work before four in the morning and returned around one in the afternoon had no bearing on the situation. Penny argued it was all horseshit. She couldn’t quite remember all of the last three weeks, but Penny had a terrible sense of time. She knew she had stayed in this weekend. The week had been exhausting. So many social gatherings and events – sometimes it was just too much for Penny.