Another ordinary day

This is the third edit. Comments appreciated. The sound of a door being slammed reverberates through the apartment, forcing its way through the air deep into my skin, drowning me in its finality and indifference. Exhausted, I collapse on the sofa, my mind racing in desperation over what I said or did, until everything becomes a blur. Time passes excruiciatingly slowly. One hour, two, three.. I pour myself another vodka from a half-empty bottle, light another cigarette from a half-empty pack, and stare mindlessly at a ceiling, while I wait, still wait helpessly, apathetically for a phone to ring or for a computer to beep: “You've got mail” from you.