I had to get up with Sofi in the storm last night and given that I didn’t want her getting stuck under the bed again, I brought her downstairs, where I proceeded to have my best sleep in a week.
On the couch.
What the actual fuck?
What’s wrong with me?
Is the exhaustion so palpable that I could have slept on a pile of jagged rocks?
A bed of knives?
A lava bed?
(A waterbed with lava, for the uneducated).
I’m sorry. That was rude and unnecessary. In terms of the grand scheme of things, we’re all uneducated.
Target: 800 words
Written: 914 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Grimm's Fairy Tales, Grimm Bros (finally, fucking finally - not as bad as Hans, but still. Pretty bad.)
Comics: Untold Tales Of I Hate Fairyland 3-6
Music: Unknown Pleasures, Interpol