Juice: Part Two
As the day carries on, I find myself phenomenally more famished. It’s unpleasant. This is working in tandem with my cigarette cravings to create an even more unpleasant result. The bitchiness that usually just skims the surface of my being has now completely sunken into my skin and is surging through my veins. I no longer want to rip poodles. I want to rip them open and eat their fucking innards.
What? I’m hungry.
I almost ate my co-worker’s hair. For serious. I looked up from my desk to find that her hair had become cascading ropes of licorice. My god did I want to just take a bite. I don’t even like licorice. I think that I was just hopeful that I would get a taste and it would be something even though I knew that it was just hair. And then I wanted a Snickers. I lusted for a Snickers for a solid two hours. By this point, my first juice was gone.
It hasn’t even been a day, people.
