At around midday I’m pathetic and hungover, which isn’t helped by the fact my boyfriend is tormenting me; whenever anything regarding the experiment happens he sarcastically asks, “Is this going in the article?” while I roll my eyes with frustration and self-pity. He blows on me and wraps me up like a burrito in the duvet at around 3pm, 15 hours in. Post-burrito, we’re lying down and his trousers unzip. Still not touching, we’re talking about how horrible it is we can’t have sex, which makes us both want to do it even more. (They say you’re either really anti-sensuality, or hornier than ever when you’re hungover. I’m in the latter category.) I really try not to touch him, but my lust speaks louder than my discipline... My self-control is skipping into the horizon, but my senses are satisfied. I’ll try harder tomorrow.