Ugh.

.

.

Rough.  Too rough.  Back to bed for a bit.  Sassy got fed.  I'll feed her again.  Set the alarm for a few hours.  Then just crash.  Feed Sassy then.  And, if more sleep is still needed, back into the covers.  It's... so dark, cold, wet.  I just can't push through.

But that isn't always bad.  For an old, mostly dead, guy, this... really isn't bad.  I've definitely had worse.  I'm just sleepy.  But... it's a wonderful day for sleep.  I... can't knock that.

I'll... still, through the day, attempt to shower.  And hope to get bandages redone.  Then, maybe, get dressed as if to go.  But... will I make it?  I'm telling you, probably not.  But... that won't be known until the time has come and gone.

Oh... ghost myself?  Not... suicide.  Just... fight.  I just have to think that would be a good food.  Someone would get hurt.  I'd film that.  No one should be able to fight you like you.  And if you really have some skills?  Be a challenge like none other.  Later.