You know when you wake up from a nightmare that makes you wish you hadn’t gone to sleep, despite how exhausted you were? Well, that’s how today started. My worst nightmares aren’t scary in any common sense. No creepy clowns and walls that turn to coagulating blood as you watch, no elephant sized spiders chasing you through too slippery corridors, and no vicious torture amidst masses of skinned kin. My worst nightmares turn my loved ones into the ones I loathe with my entire being, at the very end. With the change I realise how all of it was wrong; disgustingly so, and my misplaced affection, attraction or interest turns my insides to grime; nothing is worse than knowing you felt attracted to what makes you want to become a torturer, to what once (and still, when I question it) made me suicidal.
Luckily for me, it didn’t end there.
Several lovely things happened today. First we went to buy furniture with my sister. All went to plan, mostly, and we were very quick so I didn’t get as tired as I suspected.
My sister and I finally decided to order the equipment necessary to do gel nails ourselves, so now that has been done too, after talking about it for half a year.
And finally, a vital application I sent three or so weeks ago, came back with a positive reply.
Now, I feel tired, but not awfully so, and very content. It’s rare, and I will savour it.

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