Pardon the bag over my head.
The plain paper brown-ness of it is much better than what’s underneath I assure you. After five hours of phone-based red tape yesterday, the ugly is simply beyond words.
Also beyond words was The Hushing Days. Surprisingly, curled up in a fetal position, face pressed into the back cushion, panic nibbling at the back of the eyeballs isn’t the most ideal position in which to write.
My life is stupid.
Have a nice day outside the bag, everyone.