Rewrite. My last Tenner

Lying in bed, cold sweats, still it's 80degrees outside.
The last tenner I own keeps my back pocket wondering if one will pull it out.
Do I buy food or starve .
I decide to score.
I pull my head off my sweat stained pillows. I pull a t-shirt over ma head.
"Christ, how many days has this not been washed"
Slip on my 501s, slide on Nike's.
Tenner still burning a hole in my pocket.
Have no credit on phone.
Walking all over town just to find a dealer, all that I speak to say later on.
Later on is no use. Still the cold sweat runs down my back like a cascading waterfall.
Stomach feels like a drunken sailor has tied many knots in it.
Eventually my eye catches a dealer selling what I need.
Approaching cautiously, I pull it out. My last tenner.
At the same time, hands exchange merchandise.
   I'm on my way home. Funny how when u have what you want. Your pains and ill's subside.
I'm standing in my living room and go through the cooking process.
My hands are shaking so bad. Syringe in hand, I go to suck up the Golden. brown. Careless as I am, I fucking spill the lot on my carpet.
Raging, I go back to my sweaty pillows that my head was having nightmares on.
What a day! So much grief. No drugs, no fix.
So much for my last tenner.