(This is your Bridget on four hours of sleep. Thanks, August. Well, I mean hell yes, thank you, August.)
What are you doing?
Researching brain tumors.
Why?
The headaches, Locket. And now my eyes are super-sensitive to light suddenly and they burn by the end of the day and I'm waking up every morning with headaches again.
It's stress.
It never stops though. And I look up 'eyes sensitive' and I have like every symptom on this list. I'm dizzy all the time, my hearing is gone. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. My eyes have gotten much worse over the past few years. My whole mood has gone to shit. Look at this-
I'm not going to dignify your whim this morning, Peanut. You're fine. You've been saying this for decades and we've just had a long bout of stress-
Some of the tumors are slow-growing, you know. Someday you're going to find out I was right.
So what should we do?
I need a head transplant. Clearly it's the safest option.
Where do we find another Bridget-head?
At the cheese farm.
What?
Long story I told Dalton about a cheese farm and how it was the best place to raise herds of cheese free-range. But now I have to add a patch of back-up heads. I wonder if they need full sun-
Oh my god. Tell me all about it.
Over dinner. It's a very long tale.
But if you can remember it it means no tumor.
Hope you're right.