Everything had been shit. It had been shit for a while now, but it was getting even shittier and he was literally a walking wall of bruises. He made his way out of John's bathroom, groaning as he did so and getting ready for a nice, big whine about the whole ordeal when he tripped, stubbing his toe on the door and letting out a loud curse. "Son of a fucking, god damnit." He grumbled, making his way over to the bed and tossing himself down on it rather abruptly.
"I swear to God if I stub my toe one more time I'm gonna lose it." He'd already lost it, he was pretty sure he was greying or losing what hair he hadn't pulled out in frustration. "I'm fuckign starving, you got anything for breakfast?" He asked, wondering where the coffee was. Had he made it yet, or was it still broken from the last time he'd tried to make coffee? "Did I replace your coffee maker yet?"