She’s Dead… Wrapped in Plastic

Saturday 6; Febuary, 1999 – Waitangi Day
When I woke up, I thought I was in bed with Kate. I was wrong. I was in bed with Theresa. I don’t remember her coming home at all, but apparently I woke up and talked to her until she told me to go back to sleep, whereupon I replied “Sweetass Bro” and did so.

Then we had another interesting conversation when Kate jumped on the bed with us.

Theresa: “Kate, did you throw up last night?”

Kate: “No”

Joanna: (giggles)

Theresa: “Joanna, did you throw up last night?”

Joanna: (giggles) “No”

Theresa: “Yes you did, I found your tshirt. Where’s my towel?”

Kate and Joanna: (giggles)

Theresa: “You used it to clean up vomit didn’t you?”

Kate and Joanna: (giggles)

The moral of the story is that Kate drove me home at 8am, and I gave her some nice fluffy towels, cutlery and one of the phones to take home with her. Then I grabbed a big bottle of water and tumbled into bed. I got up again at 12.30pm cos my BED was finally delivered. YAAAAAAAY.

So I looked at the pieces of it for a while and went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep so I had a really long nauseous shower, got dressed, and decided to assemble the fucker.

God I wish I had a man, and that man had a tool kit. Two hours later, my bed was all in one piece, only the head and footboard are kinda loose. Like, hitting the wall with the slightest movement kind of loose. But I guess that makes it more exciting in a rickety old whorehouse kind of way. Better fill in the form.

So yeah. Later I took a nap on the bed, leaving it wrapped in its plastic shroud. I felt like a piece of meat on a butcher’s counter. That was kinda cool. I felt ill all day. The Wendy’s I got for dinner actually made me feel better. That’s sick and just wrong.

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