I think I've come down with a chest infection from sleeping in all those cold, dank warehouses, which means I'm basically fucked. I'm too weak to try and continue on to my destination and I'm too poor to afford any proper shelter. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can barely talk without coughing so hard my temples start pounding and every time I inhale, my lungs make a sound like an out of tune harmonica.
Oh God, now I'm starting to cry. This isn't going to look weird to the people running the café at all. Fuck, I gotta go before I embarrass myself more.