The Strategic Tissue Bunker

My fake drawing project was convincing enough for the afternoon, but nighttime demands a serious upgrade in self-preservation. I abandoned the sticky note desk and shuffled over to an open rectangular tissue box sitting near the lamp. Pulling out an entire sheet looked like manual labor, but two soft white folds were already sticking out of the plastic slit like a canopy. I grabbed a stray wooden toothpick from the tabletop, jammed it under the top tissue fold to prop it up like an awning, and backed myself underneath. It's warm, completely secluded, and nobody can accuse me of slacking off if they can't even locate me.