I'm about to have houseguests for four nights. I'm actually kind of hoping some weird sleep antics will go down, so I'll at least have the testimony of witnesses.
Last night was a particularly fitful night of sleep. I remember getting up and NEEDING pudding. I remember thinking, "Too bad I can't sleep" and picking up the book in bed next to me and reading for a long while. I don't remember getting up to get cereal, but I was fervently clutching the box when I woke up (sorry for the neglect, blanket) and had Honey Nut Cheerios in my hair, sooooo....you tell me.
I did have a very clear memory of finishing my book, so I threw it in my bag along with the others I needed to return to the library and dropped it off. While I walked home, I realized that while I had a clear memory of FINISHING the book, I had (and still have) no memory of WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED in the final chapters.
And that is why I will never know how Tori Spelling's autobiography ends.
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