Even though my legs currently feel like they have the fortitude of straws, they somehow manage to carry me off into my bedroom. I absently kick my boots off my feet as I put my hair up into a ‘pineapple’; a practice that my night-time routine has dictated for the last decade or so of my life.


I change into my pajamas with far more effort than I think a person should require to change clothes. Twenty minutes later, I’m lying in my bed with freshly brushed teeth, an empty bladder, and the world’s warmest blanket wrapped snuggly around me. I grab my phone from my purse once more, ready to plug it in to charge, and just as I’m about to, a thought occurs to me.


A thought I almost wish hadn’t.

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