I was trying to figure out what Gid reminded me of at breakfast the other day, and then it hit me. He is starting to look like the pictures of famine victims you see in the news. Huge eyes, fragile hands, delicate bone structure, all the symptoms of tenuous life.
This is particularly problematic given my tendency to hide from social contact, including my family. Anything where I have to make eye contact and/or listen to someone else's breathing, or even, *gasps*, actually make conversation, I avoid.
Life is weird.
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