He can't explain what it is. All he knows is waking up this morning feeling a little - off. And off is never a good sign.

He's having trouble focusing, only able to keep his mind on a single task for a couple moments before he starts to experience some restlessness. It's almost like his skim is humming, vibrating like some kind of hot energy underneath the surface, and it's only been getting worse as the day drags on. He feels confined by the limits of his own body, and he's struggling not to let it get to him, but he can feel sweat beading his brow and his vision blurs behind the lenses of his glasses, which he promptly removes to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The sound of a voice from outside has him glancing up, and he's breathing hard, his heart thrown into a full gallop of a beat by the mere presence of someone else. He debates not answering, but everyone who comes out to see him has good reason for doing so - and most of them are pretty insistent. But he also knows he looks like shit, so maybe that will be enough of a deterrent for any who get the idea to wander.

"Uh, it's not really a good time," he replies, opening the door just enough to speak through, one eye visible.