I am gross.
My hair is stringy and is attaching itself to my sticky neck, further trapping the heat from this sauna-like bedroom against me.
My head hurts. My breasts hurt. Actually my entire body is sluggish and sore-- torn between taking today's second shower and staying right where it is. Unmoving. Perhaps forever.
It is impossible to fall asleep and somehow (stupidly), I find myself sitting in front of a bowl of Clam Chowder. Not good Clam Chowder, I might add! And I'm wrestling with yet another difficult choice:
Q: Do I choose the repulsiveness of actually eating this fishy paste or the guilt of dumping it out while less fortunate individuals go hungry?
A: Answer found on page I-hate-this-time-of-the-month.
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