Me: “Ugh. Why are you always here, here, HERE?!!”

Tweak: “This is where I sleep.”

Me: “Show off.”

I flip the pillow over and flop onto my back in an attempt to find coolth. Tweak, hot, next to me, and as immovable as an undeveloped twin, rotates one atom to the right.

Tweak: “Wait… you can’t SLEEP?”

Me: “Look at this face. Is this face asleep??”

Tweak: “That face is on fire.”

Me: “I CAN’T SLEEP!!”

Tweak: “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Me: “Of course not. You sleep like it’s your job.”

Tweak: “That, and being pretty.”

I grumble out of bed to fill up my ice water. Tweak follows me and climbs up to her food station because she can. She looks into her bowl like it has AIDS.

Tweak: “This bowl is half-empty.”

Me: “That bowl is half-full.”

Tweak: “It’s not the right half.”

I roll my eyes and pour in a handful of nurdles.

Tweak: “Maybe you can’t sleep because you roll your eyes.”

Me: “Maybe you can’t eat because I’m gonna sell you for medical experiments.”

Tweak: “You would never sell me. Because then you couldn’t sleep.”

Me: “Tweak, you ARE a medical experiment.”

Tweak: “Go back to bed.”

Me: “You coming?”

Tweak: “Of course. It’s my job.”

 

21 June 2014, “Tolerating Tweak.”