Tore something inside. Hurts like fuck. But I'm alive, and I got sleep, on a bed even, and so I am content.

I want sushi. Still. Again. Whatever.

And I want to go DO something interesting, I don't care what.

And none of these are practical when walking to the bathroom makes me cry. *sighs*

It helps to have company around, preferrably male company, because then I go all brave and strong, and at the same time perfectly willing to accept help. Which makes no sense, but is how my mind works.