Who’s the bestest big sister in the world? Yep. That’d be me.
My youngest brother crashes on my couch a night or two a week to save himself a couple hours of sleep on the nights he works at his part-time job downtown. Tonight is one of those nights.
The poor chap is also having woman troubles. Namely, his girlfriend is a selfish cunt who is not to be trusted. And he has asked me specifically if I will wait up for him so we can have a little chat when he gets home and I can offer some advice (which will obviously be Get. Out. Now!). It’s always easier to offer relationship advice when one is bitter and jaded and totally disillusioned with the entire concept of love.
Problem is, he won’t be home until around 11pm, and I. Am. Exhausted.
I’ve had a lingering dry-cough (side effect of the mystery illness) that sets in around bedtime, so I haven’t been sleeping all that well. Today I picked up some Robitussin on the way home, and to ensure I can actually get up at 5:30 in the morning, took it at about 9:00. I am now ready to officially pass right out.
But I suppose it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to want to go to sleep this badly without my brother messing it all up, now would it?
