Head to Toe in Faeces

My neighbours have a baby that cries constantly. I think. Either that or they have a really noisy cat. Either way, the lunatic in the apartment downstairs does not like it. To the extent that he has been seen standing hallucegenating in his underwear outside their apartment at 4 in the morning, asking them to stop bleeding in his canal. Stop bleeding in my canal! he says. Stop drowning in my river! What a legend. I wish I was psychotic and alone.

Imagine the amazingness of believing that someone is bleeding into your river. Or the life that you must have had, to build a connection between a baby crying and someone emitting into your water channel. It must be awul to be nuts.

I mean, in some ways I am, obviously, both psychotic and alone, such as when I am in work and I go to the toilet 50 times to make sure my anus isn't leaking, because I am 100% sure that I am covered head to toe in faeces, and that people are just too polite to tell me; or when I accidentally wink at strangers in the street and then try to cover it up with a cough and a squint. But I'm definitely not banging on the neighbours door in my knickers crazy.

Speaking of squinting, today I must find a pair of sunglasses. Usually I go for the biggest pair I can find, in an attempt to look like a battered girlfriend. Cos those girls are always mad skinny. And skinniness is going to be very big this Summer; I can feel it in my water retention.