Perhaps She’ll Die?

14 Apr

Let me tell you this for nowt, dear reader: it was a joyous thing setting my alarm for tomorrow, as it’s a whole five hours later than this morning’s rude awakening, but it’s still at a very reasonable time of 8:30am. 

I say that, but I actually had a terrible night’s sleep – waking up every two hours in a slightly sweaty panic, thinking that I’d slept through my alarm and was subsequently late for work. Thankfully I only actually slept through my first alarm, and was half coherent by 3:42am.

I can pinpoint the exact moment that I really woke up this morning though. That would have been 7:02am, when I inhaled a fly and very nearly threw up in shock/horror/disgust. It was the only time I’ve ever spat onto the pavement (I have no idea if that’s the correct tense. Spitten seems wrong too, but I am tired and my brain hurts.) and I felt as bad doing the spitting as I felt having drowned a fly in my own saliva. 

Thankfully I did not have to swallow a subsequent variety of animals to help my situation. That old woman was clearly having serious problems.

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