I feel so greasy and congested. Tired, my eyes are itching. The cats get too close in the morning, they’re excited someone is awake. Waking up and actually trying hard to remember and put back together the nights events. I ate pizza. My demise, being drunk, and being around pizza. Or people that want pizza. If my memory serves me well, I’m remembering it to be really good. Going through my phone, it looks like I was trying to e-mail a photo of said pizza to someone. E-mail? Who AM I? The caption was “art.”
