It's become a catchphrase in my brain. "Enough," I say out loud, when a coworker's psychobabble becomes too much. "Enough," I mutter when the bomb that is my apartment building's front door slams. "Enough," I think when I'm running through another imaginary, insane conversation with my mind's constructs of the people I know. Enough, enough, enough. I'm craving changes and that fact is boring through my hardened exterior.