They call them midnight snacks, although I wouldn't say that they always happen at midnight. I woke up with this overwhelming urge to -leave-, and really - where can you go at this hour? It would be one thing if I was dressed and hadn't already been in bed. So, I venture to the kitchen - where I slice my thumb, cutting up an apple, and curse before
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Well, I won't aggravate you with this either. I can already see the response of "I'm fine."
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You don't have to worry about -everything-, you know. There are just ... some things I can handle, myself.
I don't know. Forget it.
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