SATURDAY NIGHT WRIST

I woke up Sunday night, realising that i had slept on my arm somehow, and it was numb. I woke up Sunday afternoon, and realised that it was still numb. I asked my dad, and he said it would last for a week or two, that it was called Saturday night paralysis. I can squeeze my fingers together but my wrist is completely limp, loose, not moving, inutile. My right hand. And I have an exam on Saturday. I swear, these things happen only to me.
Vacations in finland were nice. Didn’t have to stay alone in Paris crying on christmas eve next to a bloc of fois gras. Instead, I got my yearly order of boxers and socks as presents and too much food. One day I had to stop eating, that’s how much there was of it. Met relatives and frequented Lost and Found oh-too-many-times. On my second week I managed to study a little.
Alas, not enough, the shit hit the fan, so to speak, when I came back and realised how much school work I had for January. There is no way i can finish it all, and this f***** hand is not helping.
Being back will hopefully get better soon. In any case, it was nice staying at my mom’s, and it’s not like she did anything, but it’s nice to be living on my own again. There is some invisible irritation force that relatives have on you if you spend too much time with them. It grows bigger the closer they are to you. Hi Julia! :D