Sunday, December 25, 2011

Woo-hoo

2pm. I’m a little bit ruined. I feel kind of sick… a bit plain… my head is spinning. Movement is tough, my head is aching, my body is aching too.
I was supposed to go and see mum, but I didn’t. Poor mum. Let's hope the Alzheimer's kicks in big time.
My sister asked me to call the real estate agent, but I haven’t. Really? Now? She is going to be pissed off.
I made muesli. Later I made scrambled eggs

Later on, we look at the drug bag and say, “We haven’t quite done half, really.”
“When are we going to take the rest of it?” I ask. We’re not going to a New Year’s Eve party, after all.
"We can have a bit more," says Sam holding the small plastic bag between his fingers, running his tongue over it.
"Let's do it now," I say. Who cares about what happens in the future.
"This weekend is as good as next."

And just as we inhale the remaining powder, D messages to say he has the four pills we got for New Year. "There you go," I say.
"There you go," says Sam.
Sorted.

We both admit that the thought makes us feel like throwing up right now, but we both think we'll have that sorted by Saturday.

We don't sleep for forty eight hours.

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