I sleep with two pil­lows. The big­ger, fluffi­er one goes under my head, and the small­er, less fluffi­er one I hug. I’ve been sleep­ing with two pil­lows longer than I can remem­ber, and it’s become dif­fi­cult to fall asleep with just one, which makes crash­ing at friends places and hotels a bit of a has­sle. Sometimes I sleep on my side with the small­er pil­low on my back and pre­tend I’m sleep­ing next to some­one.

I swear like a fuck­ing sailor.

Somehow, only one of my pairs of box­ers shrunk in the wash, with­out me real­iz­ing it. When I put them on, my first thought was, “MY PACKAGE HAS GROWN BIGGER”.

Hellooooooooo insom­nia.

I hate my laugh. No, real­ly. It’s a com­bi­na­tion of my moth­ers’ laugh (a sort of gaspy, light, heav­ing) and Mike’s laugh (short bursts of falset­to squeak­ing). Someone once told me that it’s what she liked about me, but I think she just asso­ci­at­ed it with my sense of humour.