“Will it be a basil cleanse?” asked Midwesterner Ashley Jackson, 23, as she spent her 43rd day in a row in her 400 square foot apartment desperately clinging for something to get excited about.

“That would be exciting,” she lied to herself.

“You know Gwyneth will come up with something, that self-celebrating shrew!” Jackson paused reflectively, wondering which of the two main definitions of shrew she was thinking about. She decided probably both.

After pondering that for two hours, she resumed her main hobby at the time: staring at the wall.