As the last exam crawls up on me with gnarled crooked (And thank god, metaphorical) claws...I'm in bed sniffing away feeling a little bit worse for wear.

I havent even been out drinking the night before - just regular ol' illness..my body's such a loser.

However - wrapped up in a duvet shivering endlessly chic is a wonderful look for me.

OH I don't want an exam. I know it's a film one and all I need to do is watch Pedro Almadavor films to revise but..I would rather just sell Big Issues.

No.
No I wouldn't.

Davina's calling for me downstairs...should I go to her? No. No fuck her, I'm going to sit in bed and surgically remove my own stomach.