It's 10:40am.
I woke up a while ago and have been lying in bed. I need to poop, but somebody is in the shower. It would probably be rude to intrude on somebodies shower with a disgusting morning-after-red-wine poop.
God, it's 10:40am and I am talking about disgusting poop.
We can backtrack a little to the red wine. I went on a walk yesterday and came back with two bottles of it. That should get me through this week.
I hate that all I think about is getting through things.
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