FYI

2nd of December, 1:03 am.
I have to be up at 7am tomorrow morning. I don't have to be into work until 9 but I need to do my hair and be ready 45 mine before I usually would be bc I'm having breakfast with Gma (the best friend/ex/the one with the straight girl mind + bull dykes vagina). Why am I having breakfast with her? Because it's her day off and she was kind enough to agree to drive me to work. Why do I need her to drive me to work? Because the evil capitalists at Hornsby Westfield have installed cameras that prevent me from moving my car to make the best use of the first 3 hours of free parking.

30 November, 5am.
I feel derailed. I've been laying in bed for the past four hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. I think I'm sleeping but I'm not. Everytime I close my eyes it feels as though I've been strapped to a giant top and I'm just spinning spinning spinning. All of a sudden I feel the urge to sit straight up in bed. So I do. My instincts provided me with the sense to go to the toilet. In the toilet, all that was vile inside of me a few moments ago was equally vile in front of me. I had decided it okay to rest my forehead on the toilet seat, only noticing after a few moments how I was actually deriving comfort from the most unsanitary of places. I was wrecked yet perplexed. Why on earth do I do this to myself? I showered and went back to bed, only to have to wake up in a few hours to go to work on my way to work I felt like I was rotting from the inside out. I'm tossing up between a full detox or a drastic cut down in consumption.

2nd of December, 1:29 am.
I lay in bed typing on an iPhone with a cracked screen. I can feel the tiny shards of glass slide under my fingers. Why is my phone cracked? I wish I knew. All I can tell you that it happened on either Friday or Saturday night and my state was such that I cannot recall anymore.

2nd of December, 1:32 am.
I'm starting to feel a change in me. It's slightly terrifying. Only slightly.