#Chapter164
Remember
I inhale heavily to self—calm and level myself out, shake my head and give myself an internal rattle to snap out of this. I haul out an oversized night shirt that Meadow gifted me in the manor, my all—time favorite, and underwear, and quickly strip, loving the feel of fitted soft delicate lingerie and an actual cozy and loose t—shirt, printed with delicate pastel florals, over grey sweats any day. It's the little things that can restore you in weird ways.
I yank out my toiletries bag and find my hairbrush, facial wipes, and all manner of self—grooming products I left behind, as they were too heavy to lug around, and start to put myself to rights. There's a mirror over the mantle and it's only now I can see how grubby and scruffy I look and decide to quickly remedy it. I look like a hobo who hasn't seen water in weeks, and my hair is a dull brown because it's so dirty.
