Surviving like a Refugee, Part II

Well, I'm still alive. Just. I figured that the best plan of survival last night was to curl up into a ball and try and go to sleep - that way I'm using as little energy as possible. My stomach has started making noises like a dolphin on acid. It's a little disturbing. My head has started to feel like rhinos are holding a knitting class inside it, and not in a good way.

So anyway, I'm lying there, being all energy efficient and stuff, trying to go to sleep, but I can't stop thinking about how ethical it would be to eat someone. Then Ben finally gets back.

"Oh Hi Fus, this is Erica"
"I don't care about that. Did you get some milk?"
"Dude, no I went and watched a basketball game in LA"

In any other circumstances, I'd be over the moon, but this is life or death here. I don't know what the longest anyone has survived on dry Cheerios for but I'm guessing probably only about an hour or so. Sensing that sleep wasn't all Ben & Erica had in mind (ie. because it was Ben, with a girl who had a pulse), I got ready to go sleep on the couch downstairs.

"Dude, it's ok, don't move, we're going straight to sleep"

So I tried curling back up into the HELP position and going back to sleep. After about 0.5 seconds I hear the unmistakable sounds of lips on lips. Just because I'm trying to stay alive doesn't mean that my last moments on Earth have to be socially awkward. I got up to go again, to the same protests from Ben, I was like "like I'm going to lie there while you two play tonsil tennis all night" - I mean, what does he want me to do, join in?

Anyway, Ben went to work this morning before I got chance to mention to pick up some milk again, but luckily, panic has been averted - Jess and Erica (The roomie, not the tonsil equivalent of Martina Hingis) came back and fed me Burritos. It's amazing how much easier to stand up it is without feeling faint after you've eaten :)