10:32AM: heard dad’s slippers approaching on carpet. he asked if i wanted coffee. i said ‘not right now, thank you though.’ he said something about it being very fresh as the sound of his slippers reversed direction. mom also asks if i want coffee whenever she makes it. i’ve responded with ‘i’ll get it if i want it’ in varying tones of annoyance, sometimes leading to a heightened argument about ‘being considerate.’ a few months ago i decided it’s better for everyone if i just say ‘not right now, thank you’ or ‘smells good, thank you, maybe later.’ for some reason i never want it when they ask me, but sometimes less than a minute later i’ll get it myself, stepping as softly as i can, trying to be unnoticeable as i pour a cup of ‘my little secret’ which i carry back to my room, where i feel about six years old. this happens every time. i don’t know how to stop it unless people stop asking me if i want coffee but no one is ever going to stop.

10:51AM: walked softly to kitchen. drank liquid antacid. mimed pouring capped antacid container into coffee mug and said ‘do you think it’d be good if i used it, you know, used it like this, for coffee’ to dad, nowhere to be seen. started to say more and was stopped by a rustling noise. dad emerged from a hidden corner-area, holding a newspaper. he said ‘what now?’ i said ‘oh like, used this for cream? it’d be a creamer substitute, this stuff, you know.’ dad looked confused. i said ‘i don’t even like cream, so. this would be especially bad,’ gesturing to the antacid. he didn’t move for a moment, then seemed to ‘get it’ and made a joke. a little later he asked for my permission to show me an article about how irish people behave in the morning. he said ‘your ancestors, you know. irish heritage. it’s here if you want it.’ withheld urge to remind him he doesn’t need to ask my permission. knew i wouldn’t read article, felt guilty/sad. i said ‘maybe later, i’m on a roll now, doing things.’ he asked what things. i told him i’d been writing in this liveblog for most of the night and now i wanted to ‘knuckle down’ and do other things. felt really guilty. it was hard to walk back to my room. we kept saying things. i said ‘but i think first i need to rest, you know, rest before i knuckle down.’ dad said ‘of course.’ felt really, really guilty.

11:07AM: peed and thought things like ‘did i respond to colin’s texts’ in the same neutrally focused ‘tone’ of the pee, which stopped when the pee stopped.

11:12AM: can’t find liquid antacid. keep wretching and swallowing prevomit stomach acid. last food eaten was raspberry cookies, over 24 hours ago.

3:19PM: want to be talking in insane unprecedented 9:47AM update voice all the time. funny to read 11:12AM update after writing insane update.