Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I look different to how I went to bed. When I look in the mirror, it’s like my face has been sqooshed into an unnatural position; it’s a bit wonky, my smile is weird and my eyes are below my nose. It’s rearranged itself while I was sleeping.

The conversation (with myself) usually goes something like this:
Real Me: “Aggghhh”
Mirror Me: “Aggghhhhhhhh”
Real Me: “Who the hell are you?”
Mirror Me: “I’m you bozo!”
Real Me: “but what happened to my face?”
Mirror Me: “it got flattened and squooshed and now appears to be sitting far more to the left of your head than it was previously… you’re also a bit wonky”
Real Me: “Aggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”

This exchange is usually followed by my hair appearing to have formed into dreadlocks, through which NO brush can get through, by the zipper on my favourite skirt breaking, or the realisation that my favourite jeans are ever-so-slightly too much tighter than the last time I wore them (damn those hard-to-resist doughnuts) and finding out that the only clean underwear I have is so old it’s being held together with safety pins (too much information?).

You’ve probably figured out by now – I’m not much of a morning person…

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