And then you look up and oh fuck it's three in the morning and you look down at your toxin meter and the batteries have run out on the fucking thing so you have no idea how close you are to dying and the sluggish feelings could be death's approach but they could also be the six pack of beer you downed like a baby bird eating its mother's regurgitant all hopeful for growth and flight but you can't tell the difference because you're drunk and tired and dying so you gather all your energy, stand up and stagger back to to stasis bed before the sickness overtakes you, punch in your code and the alarm and pass out.
I bought soap today. We didn't have soap. Part of me kind of likes smelling like an animal because I am an animal but part of me feels sorry for everyone else. Also part is worried that the pheromones will give me away to humans. Got to keep clean. Got to stay alive.
Tonight I've programmed the pod to play me the Drones while I'm passed out. They're back in the country again, aren't they? I need to either find someone to come with me or bully Nik into following me there.