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Not much to say, except I still have a headache and I want to go to bed but I’m too tired to actually get up and clean my teeth and get changed, etc, etc. I suppose there’s no reason why I couldn’t just sleep on the couch, where I am now, but…it just seems wrong somehow.

When do you grow out of those things? You know, like sleepovers, or staying awake all night just because you can, or building forts in the living room with all your pillows and blankets. When I was a kid, adulthood seemed so cool just because you could have the freedom to do those things with no one telling you to be quiet, or go to bed, or demanding to know why you dragged all the available bedding in the house into the living room. Yet now that I’m an adult, there’s an adult’s voice in my head that’s telling me if I don’t go to bed now I’ll be tired for work tomorrow, and if I build a fort I’ll just have to put all the stuff away again and who can be bothered.

Besides, it’s more fun when there’s someone else around to do those things with. Not so fun sitting in a blanket fort on your own. In fact, it could be considered a little weird…

Do you ever have flashbacks to moments as a child? Just tiny little explosions of sound, smell or taste that transport you back for a millisecond? Every now and again I get a flash of what it felt like when I was a little girl to have a bath before bed, and have my hair dried by my mum. It’s hard to describe, but it was a delicious mixture of exhaustion, warmth, security and happiness.

Also, sometimes when I look at a ceiling at a certain angle, I flashback to being a kid in PNG when I used to make up a whole world that existed upside down on the ceiling. We had a coffee table with a mirror set into it, and I would sit looking into this mirror at the ceiling, and imagine what it was like to live up there. Now that I think about it, that sounds really boring; I mean, there’s nothing on the ceiling, right? But somehow, as a kid, it was like a whole other dimension.

I guess I was always into make-believe. I apparently also had an imaginary friend, although I don’t remember her. Which seems kind of…sad somehow.