My constant prayer is that my dog stays asleep. I have so much work to do. It can get very depressing to think about, but I remind myself that I have fun doing it.

He is dirty as a street rat because he traipses through street rat puddles. Now he’s lying in our bed with us, and I am literally sick. My vagina has a rash. I can’t stop coughing. My head feels weird. My teeth are turning yellow. They’re disintegrating and falling out.

The doctor tells me that my main problem is television sickness. He doesn’t want me getting paranoid about the dog.

My coffee tastes like bacon and I haven’t even had anything at all closely resembling bacon this morning.


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