Too formal? What if I told you I am wearing nothing? Sadly, that would be a lie. But despite the conspicuously placed boxer shorts, this is me, now bare to the world, wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep and setting myself up for a fall tomorrow.
I am sure the Little Dude and Squeakmonster will eat me alive in the morning demanding food, cuddles, tickling and through all the above, love. These are the ingredients of their daily struggle. Ingredients I must bring to the table a hundred times a day when rested, a thousand when exhausted.
Unexpected commentary from the shampoo: rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat...but it doesn't say when to stop. The curlew outside my window seems to have a bottle too. The soothing sounds of nature have failed to lull me to sleep. Again. Yet again.
And don't forget to tune in for the rematch in 24 hours' time.
Perhaps I'll slide into the unused side of the bed. Hopefully my goddess, Athena, doesn't stir. Hopefully I won't be her curlew.
Hence, we are your actors, introduced in part, for your enjoyment, in this memorably forgettable farce that doesn't have and end. In life, there is no third act. And if we are lucky, the second act will drag on til eternity.
A double-shot espresso in the morning, methinks. Definitely a double.
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