both of my knit caps are gone, somewhere between here and there that my own feeble, failing eyes can't reach. i'm so sick of locks falling into my face right now that i've actually been tempted to cut them all off, one fell swoop, good morning, world, i look businesslike now, don't i look respectable?
i look like shit, i know i say that at least once a week but i'm not lying, i looked in the mirror today for the first time and the image that i could make out, blurred because i've been wearing my glasses lately, is one of a black-maned manchild squinting behind glasses and wincing beneath a week's worth of whiskers. i look fucking awful, i still feel fat and sluggish, and i just want to sleep all the fucking time.
fortunately, all of this comes on the eve of a visit to the shrink, so i finally get to explain all of this to him.
i look like shit, i know i say that at least once a week but i'm not lying, i looked in the mirror today for the first time and the image that i could make out, blurred because i've been wearing my glasses lately, is one of a black-maned manchild squinting behind glasses and wincing beneath a week's worth of whiskers. i look fucking awful, i still feel fat and sluggish, and i just want to sleep all the fucking time.
fortunately, all of this comes on the eve of a visit to the shrink, so i finally get to explain all of this to him.