I confess that sometimes I am awake all night in my baggiest, most unshapely, hole-y mumu. I skulk around the house being vague, thinking weird thoughts, or talk to myself while conjuring fictional scenarios where I really got to stick it to some nasty bitch or the other. Or, I just sit at my table and stare at the traffic zooming by, trying to imagine the people inside the cars, where they are going or where they might be coming from.
But don’t be afraid. I am not a psychotic creepozoid (unlike some people I know). I am just a bit spacey, that’s all.