The Stars and the Cookie Jar

First porridge of the season, notably. And I finished the container of orange juice, selfishly.
And I like adverbs, apparently.

Last night turned into PTSD Night at the Selkie Cafe. I don't know what happened! I got to sleep all right, but the nightmare was horrible. I woke up with the entire queen-size sheet lumped under my torso -- I thrash a little -- and my aunt banging on my door because I was screaming. It was around three in the morning, and she was not appreciative. I was not speaking English.

Yeah. Blergh. Went back to bed with a whacking headache, and snugged my girl's t-shirt in a pathetic display of pathetitude. Got woken up again four hours later by our friend, Senor Alarm Clock. Am now late for bus, in fact so late that I can sit here and wait for the next bus.

So that makes my nine-hour day an eight-hour day, at least.

Yay?

Oh, make my headache stop.