I fell asleep in my clothes last night on a two seater couch in my living room in Devonport. I woke up this morning on top of my bed, fully clothed, cooking (I can’t sleep in here, my bedroom catches the morning Sun and I wake up feeling like a dehydrated fucking apricot). My headache this morning was so bad that it felt like I had a woodpecker inside of my skull trying to bash its way to freedom. Just awful…

I have absolutely no recollection of anything that occurred last night either, which makes me somewhat worried considering I was out for a very long time and spoke to a number of people I hadn’t seen in a very long time. I can only imagine what they’d be saying about their brief encounter with me…“Did you see Casey? Jesus, he looked a little worse for wear. When I was talking to him, it was as if he’d mentally checked out and his body was just taking up room, waiting for his soul to return.” My soul didn’t return either, and I just ended up swaying drunkenly from one conversation to another like a kite in a strong breeze, adding no value to any of them. It was actually pretty brilliant.

We walked home (as successfully catching a cab in Devonport at 3am in the morning is about as rare an event as a lunar eclipse) and stopped off at a 24-hour service station to buy some awful food (I bought a bag of mixed lollies – because I’m clearly a fucking 8 year old… no Ghost Drops though, I was shattered) and made a passing comment to the staff behind the counter that it was impossible to get a cab home and we’d be traipsing the rest of the way home on foot.

The next thing you know, one of the shop attendants says, “Come on then boys, let’s go, I’ll give you a lift, where are you going?” (For $10, which is ridiculously cheap). It turns out that he runs a sort of private taxi service (unsure if this is legal or not, I thought you had to have a taxi licence to ferry people around) and he even had his own business cards with SET prices (I wish all cabs were like that) dependant on which suburb the individual concerned wants to go to. Four minutes later we were home.

I’ve never been more excited to get into the back of a strange man’s van in all of my life…

/end communication

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