Revelation 11

To combat this ungodly heat i lounge around in my slightly dingy white crochet bikini all day and blast all the fans in my possesion. I would get a portable air conditioner, but the dozen of places i called today are all sold out. Ah, hindsight, how i'm familiar. Celebrating both creativity and desperation i fill a bowl with water, dump several ice cubes in it, and dab myself with a paper towel soaked in the solution every now and then.

Even in my inebriated state i catch one of my cups shifting off askew once in a while, and i nonchalantly adjust it to return it to its appropriate state.

Having wiped the diaper rash ointment with toner off my neck, i slide down and rest my head on the couch. That simplistic gesture exorcises all my anxiety away.

I'm gonna be okay after all, even if JD moves to Florida, even if "[I'm] the only person who truly understands." Even if, if i can bring myself to comb below the surface, i don't know how i can make this work. We can't laugh without at least 6 fluid ounzes in our veins.

I'm OK as long as i can lie languidly on my couch, strutting my gut, not giving a hoot. As long as no one is spying with a telescope in my vicinity. And no one in their right mind should. There are fresher crops.