![]() ![]() ![]() In a fit of frustration, I tossed the sheet off my bed. Those crunchy grain cakes certainly beat starvation, but they had a tendency to sit on the gut like a redneck cinderblock on the porch of life. The PUKs we'd all been eating had worn out their welcome and probably my stomach lining. It was TEOTWAWKI.Īll it took this night was my hunger growling its discontent. Instead, I was lucky to get twenty minutes of REM every night. I'd wake up tripping over my own Rip Van Winkle-style beard and smelling like a garden full of onions and teenage feet.Īnd I'd bask in the unkempt stench of it all. After having fought back a modest horde of cannibals within the very walls of our own private, decently stocked and fairly well secured hospital, baptized the Pearly Gates, I wanted nothing more than to slam my head into a pile of memory foam and sleep off the last few weeks. ![]() Sleep comes in fits and spurts these days. ![]()
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