Rather than work on my current project, I go back to the kitchen to try and make it presentable before my friend comes to stay with us this weekend. I scrub the dishes that we keep trading out for new dirty ones, sweep the floor, wipe down the counters with bleach.
I stayed up too late last night, and so I suppose that I could tell you more about the process. Right now, though, in this moment, as I type these words, my eyes have slammed shut three times, maybe four, and I'm having a real hard time keeping them open.
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