Me: Is it me or is it f***ing boiling in here?
You: I mean, it’s literally a furnace in the burning mouth of Hell.
Me: Do I have steam coming off the top of my head?
You: I can’t see, I’m too depressed.
Me: Well, try depressed and ANGRY FOR NO REASON.
You: Please don’t shout, it might make me cry.
Me: You’re talking like I can control any of this. I can’t control any of this.
You: It’s hard to concentrate on what people are saying when you haven’t slept, like, ever.
You: I can’t even see your skin, I’m too upset.
Me: SHUT UP. Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.
You: Do my boobs look massive and painful to you?
Me: Do I look twenty stone heavier to you?
You: How should I know?
Me: (Also crying)
Me: OMG this headache.
You: I gave you a headache. I am evil and must be destroyed.
Me: Wow, are you still talking? STOP TALKING DON’T MAKE ME KILL YOU. Sorry, that just came out.
You: If I’m not eating a bar of chocolate of some description within the next four seconds, I am going to get violent.
Me: Sugar is my only food group at the moment.
You: Give me chocolate or I will SMASH THIS PLACE UP….. Sorry.
Me: My basal temperature is so high I can melt a bar of chocolate just by walking into the same room as it.
You: (crying) I just want a twelve-hour nap. Is that too much to ask?
Me: You know what, I’m even hairier than I was when we started this conversation.
You: And I have yellow eyes and fangs and it’s not even full moon.
Me: I’m sweatier than Blanche Dubois and twice as mad.
You: (crying) I just want to watch Beaches.
Me: (also crying) I’ve never seen Beaches.
You: (crying) Me neither.