You’re wearing that blue checkered romper from the night before, the one that leaves little to the imagination of the scholarly humans, all up before the ripe time of 10.
And now it’s noon and you’ve slept through 3 phone calls and you’re not even sure if you’re bank account will allow for the $2 iced coffee you’re about to **** down.
But you buy all the overpriced caffeine anyway, because today’s a new day and if you stop moving you might notice the wound, and the pain, and start to bleed, and realize its going to make a mess so maybe its time for an Irish exit and leave.