Simbang gabi, day 3.
Running on two hours of sleep.
Only things I can remember: Making sign-of-the-cross, last part Gospel, first part homily, kneeling, standing, kneeling, holding hands with that 17-year-old girl beside me wearing a very short skirt (or was it a 70-year-old? Was it a girl at all? Wasn't really sure.), praying to Jesus to please let me not fall asleep while driving a motorcycle (again), the priest somehow doing another homily, and waking up at home at 10 AM.
Everything else was a blur.
Thank the stars I didn't wake up on a street somewhere. Or worse, on the bed of a seventeen-slash-seventy-year-old that may or may not be female. Hah!
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