Observe Gaby in her natural habitat—not quite home, but home enough. She sits, surrounded by soft blankets, encased in pajamas, but her shoulders are already tensed for today, still tensed from yesterday. There are too many things she needs and wants to do and many days to do them. She is overwhelmed by too much time and not enough time. At night she makes checklists in her mind and holds onto her doll for dear life. Her life consists of two disparate modes: inside and outside. She tries to bring outside into inside with an open window, but outside never permeates inside beyond a light breeze. Reflected in her eyes she sees outside, through the bars, distorted, alarmingly peopled, with a big open sky. She enters outside when she wants a decaf latte and there is no more milk in the fridge.