Delirium

"Do I have dementia?"

This is the first thought in my head when I stir at 4 a.m. In the moment, I am certain of it.

Then I realise I've hardly eaten in four days, only been able to sleep 2 hrs in 2 days and, so, occupied myself reading Chelsea Handler's memoirs back to back so that her voice is now stuck in my head & I'm having imagined conversations with her dad and Black Magic and Black Magic's mom as we share forty-ounce Coronas in Costa Rica.

I'm making up words when I'm not mixing up words that are connected by sound or subject but not interchangeable e.g Cherry Handler.

I can barely type or make full sentences.

I'm more worried for Miss Chelsea though.

"Those that doubt me suck cock by choice."

I love perfume. I quake before perfume counters. Those girls behind the counters are more perfect than supermodels. Perfectly coiffed and respectably accented as they impeccably pronounce "parfum." The patience of saints, as they repeatedly hand you sachets of coffee to sniff.

There are apparently some shops where they toss together a customer's favourite scents in a bottle.

ginger
A1 steak sauce
pipe ash
scotch
petrol
shoe polish

I obviously grew up shining shoes in a private gentlemen's club near an Agip.

Back to the perfume; must find a shop that shall accept my challenge.

Jolly Good Fellow, indeed.

So... is -- like -- growing up finding out how considerably full of shite you are? And continuously full of shite at that, what with not spelling the word as shit and for using two kinds of ellipses, in the same sentence, then starting the followinning sentence with the word "and," compounded with the phrase "what with," inventing the word "followinning" and maybe abusing the word "compound" and to top it all off, Everest style, taking the highest mountain's name in vain?

I'm a bit long in the tooth (Just watched "Venus" and O'Toole does have long teeth.) to be this wordy; it is no longer cute. In fact, it never was, and I am now slapping my younger self, hard, the way she likes it.