Sleep, still not the easiest thing to come by, and when it finally did, the timing was all off, leaving Effy crawling her way to consciousness in the early afternoon. Not that it mattered, really, since it was a weekend anyway.
There was the surfacing of the realisation she should probably get up, get dressed, go out, do
something... But not really the inclination. Too many other things spinning around in her head. A brief investigation down the side of her bed revealed the bottle she kept there was empty. Well. There went that solution. Shit.
Eventually, she made the effort to slip out of bed and turn up her music
loud enough to almost drown out most of the snippets of conversation in the back of her head making her twitchy, and slid down to sit on the floor, back against her bed and head dropped back against the mattress. Picking up bad, floor-sitting habits. Wonder whose fault that was.[[Door is closed, post can be open with the warning the girl is extra messy and broken. ETA: aaand I should probably tack on an extra WARNING for delicate subject matters ahead: discussion of alcohol abuse, mental health issues, etc.]]