Can it be that all it takes to get rid of Mr Hyde is an 11-hour sleep? Yep, 11.. What a dormouse!
Today life is smiling at me again. Or, to be precise, I am not biting anybody's head off. Even in the super crowded Regent St shops on a Saturday afternoon.
Or.. Maybe.. Maybe somebody secretly added valium to my drinks.. Whatever. I am not complaining.
You know, it is really scary to be possessed by some angry, impatient, loud, aggressive, mad woman taking over your body and mind. Lack of sleep and rushes of adrenaline strip all my inhibitions and I could happily yell at strangers on the underground, in pubs, in queues.. With happily being the operative word.
...And relax...
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