He looks how I feel

My name is Fritz, Shrödinger’s Cat,
I sometimes wonder where I’m at.
Within a small world I exist;
My master, he’s a physicist
Who talks of protons, neutrons too,
Held in place with magic glue.
He’s weird and in his element
Performing this experiment.

-William Messent

Actually his name is Dylan
And we're both contemplating a wasted evening
He's depressed by the wind and the rain
With me it's "eight hours - then work again".