Its almost 3 am and here I am surfing the internet. Reading archives or newspaper or emails even. Doing mundane virtual errands that ABSOLUTELY have to be done. Because if they dun, someone will DIE. You know, DIE!
Oh dear.. do I need hormone therapy?
I have yet to shower. I swear my hair feels like it has been dipped in oil that once upon a time belonged in Macdonalds. Every crease of my body has a layer of either grim or crystalised salt. (Pick whichever you prefer, see I give you options) Under my skin exist a layer of pus waiting to congregate into small little infested pimples oozing with unshowered-ness.
What is WRONG with me???
I swear you can smell all of yesterdays' dead insects on me right now. If you sniff hard enough. Well... if you even dare to sniff.
Thats it. I need a plan. I need a plan to tell me what to do with my life. This cannot continue on for much longer. Here is the grand plan.
I am going to watch another episode of 'House' (newly aquired disgusting habit) and retire to bed with my trusted Elmo, who loves me unconditonally.
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