Could be, I guess. I figure I should probably stay away from the mirrors for a while. [Which, for someone who has basically no filter or ability to keep a lid on it, is not going to be easy. He gives a rueful smile that looks more like an anxious grimace.

He takes a last drag on his cigarette and winces as it burns down low enough to bring the ember to his fingers, not from the heat but from knowing he can't just absently light up another one. He'll have to hold off or he'll regret it later.]

You weren't here for the first half. It was torture. I think I lost half a foot to blisters and permanently fucked my back.