She knew she shouldn’t really give a fuck about it, not now, not after so long, but she did, and she was beyond bored with her flickering brain thinking on and on and on into the early hours. That’s why she drank. It wasn’t a social thing, it was a sanity thing, without it she’d end up a zombiefied husk from lack of sleep. The cat liked the new pattern, it meant when he scratched at the door at 5am she would feed him instead of scream profanities in his direction and occasionally open the door brandishing a shoe. ‘Fuck’ she exclaimed to the wall ‘fuck fuck fuck’ and considered that she might just have everything out of proportion as she twisted the lid of the half empty vodka bottle and drank deeply.
On and on and on