1. You purge the refrigerator of all your roommates’ drunk foods from two weeks ago, clean all the loose protein powder off the sink, and even scrub the red wine stain off the white cabinets that’s been there since the night you first moved in.
2. Brew approximately 13 cups of tea in less than 6 hours.
3. Journal, journal, journal, journal. For hours. For pages. Until your hand physically contorts into a claw.
4. Decide that the leaky faucet in your kitchen is the bane of your current existence and actually utilize that tool kit you bought at IKEA that one time to attempt fixing it.
5. Finally peel open that box of Swiffer WetJet wipes you bought two months ago thinking that maybe one day someone in the apartment would need them, and go to town on your wood floors.
6. Alphabetize your books. Then color coordinate them. Then organize your color coordinated alphabetized library into sections divided by genre.
7. Color coordinate every and any cloth material that exists in your apartment.
8. Reorganize all the furniture in the living room. Your roommates might come home a little confused, but will refrain from asking you any irksome questions as soon as they note your telltale feverish pacing.
9. Read everything Miranda July ever wrote. And then read everything David Sedaris ever wrote. And then stalk both their Twitter accounts.
10. After Twitter stalking for hours, determine that technology and social media are absolute evils and draft a pro’s and con’s list about throwing everything away.
11. Due to the impracticality of throwing out all of your electronics, you deep clean your wardrobe. This gives you an opportunity to really ask yourself important questions, such as: Why did you think it was necessary to buy an American flag crop top from Urban Outfitters? How did you acquire such an outstanding number of college shirts? Did you even know you owned loafers, and why?
12. Become a human manifestation of DIY Pinterest boards. Melt some crayons on white canvases, hang up photos and magazine cut-outs with some twine—then contemplate whether you could seriously be successful as a reclusive artist who never interacts with anyone ever.