"Mine is, too," she says mournfully. Granted, he's more "computers and electronics" than wide and varied "tech", but he could probably tell if she was in danger of DEATH or not.

"Ugh, I hate this. Yes." She only pauses a second before shouting, "Wait, no! I mean. I can't shower with a garbage bag over my arm forever. Okay. I just."

She stops, and takes a couple of deep breaths.

Look, they're out now? It's very hard to keep her thoughts coherent. She'd really like to curl up on top of Tommy and sob hysterically before sleeping for the next five years. But first she desperately needs that shower.