(WESLEY)
When I get home, I drag my feet to my one-bedroom apartment. I'm cold and exhausted. I should find something to eat, but the idea of eating makes me feel nauseated. I strip and put the tea kettle on. I put on some warm pajamas. Once the kettle whistles in the other room, I make myself a cup of chamomile tea then crawl to the bed with the cup in my hand. The warm cup heats my chilled fingers as I blow on the steaming brew.
My apartment looks boorish. I haven't bothered to decorate my apartment. I'm surrounded by bare, white walls. As a live in Manny, I never see the need to have so many material things. If I had bought so many material things, I would have to pay for storage whenever I was on assignment. For that reason, I don't have a TV set or a stereo system. The silence in this apartment is almost oppressive.
