Babs: Did you say something, stomach?
Stomach: Nup, nada man.
Uterus: Over here. There's something. An almost enticing but entirely loathed hint of not-quite a cramp. It's saying "Maybe not right now, maybe not today ... but probably tomorrow, my grand relations are coming. You know the ones that cut your insides up?"
Babs: ... fuck.

*****

I'm dehydrated. I feel like a sponge squeezed dry. My brain feels like someone has sucked all the liquid out of it, all the air too, and now in one of those vacuumed plastic bags my brain can fit in the palm of my hand.

Long day. I ... Long day.

*****

On the way home my left contact made a bid for freedom. Three, actually. I caught it the first two times. Ended up half blind for half an hour.

If you leave both your eyes open you get used to it. You can't tell which eye is giving you corrupt information and which isn't.

My insides are in a similar state.

*****

Going to fall asleep on Mr Couch now, he doesn't care that I've still got mascara on, he doesn't care that I'm stupid as fuck.

Wet the pillows and goodnight.

I'm beat. the ultimate entendre of double.

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