My Dream of Drinking Water
Sep 5, 2018 · 4 min read

I went to bed on Labor Day feeling like a old, sun-soft bag of New York garbage. My body is desperately clinging onto fluid. Everest climbers could hang from my love handles for support. I am puffy. I am broken.
This isn’t just a Labor Day thing. This is every weekend. It’s every goddamn day. As I am crawling into bed I run the same diagnostic check: how much water did I drink?

