Duct tape the damned thing into the window, that’s what i intended to do. Because i will not be waking up at five thirty in the morning stuck to my own self and coughing, hacking, until finally i crawl out across the hall to the bathroom so as not to wake up Elise. My personal alarm clock seems to be set for five thirty despite the level of humidity present, but i can’t help but think that i’d have a shot at a whole night’s sleep if i didn’t have so much trouble breathing — this morning with hands braced on other side of the sink either trying to keep me standing or trying to aim well in the dark, fiddling with her stupid drain that always falls down when it should be staying up. I wound up downstairs on the new couch doing a crossword as my vision slowly doubled from the percocet until finally each box had halfway overlapped into its neighbor and i knew it was time to sink back into a largely restless slumber.
I’ve never owned my own duct tape before; it makes me feel powerful. The air in here is cool now, and the doors are closed. It’s my own damned clubhouse. Now if only i brought the portable fridge in with me…