I'm hella tired at the moment, so I'm just going to make this quick, while I eat whatever you call the last meal of the day (dinner) when it happens at 11:30 AM (lunch) and you skipped eating at breakfast time because you were out partying, and just apologise for the drunken ramblings of my last post. I've been out all night/morning on something of a bender with the 'McCafe Chick' I mentioned, who does indeed like Vodka but is not so much into guys, which is pretty much just my luck. Though it did make for some nice discussions on the nature of sexuality. Anyway, I said I'd make this quick, so back to it.
Alcohol is something of a coping mechanism for me in the aftermath of a visit from Him, which is not at all healthy, I know, but I'm not much concerned with health these days. It's a painfully long story, but the conclusion is that I'm allowed to keep writing as long as I'm careful not to say something I'll regret, and I also have a new colleague to look after, which was the reason for His visit in the first place. Of course, He didn't say either of those things in as many words, being that He doesn't say words at all, but I'll tell you all about that when I don't need to sleep so much.
And don't fear, faithful audience of three, I have retained my sanity after yet another visit from Him, as I will always do. I don't know what you want to call His effect on a person's brain in the general sense, but I do get quite a bit of that whenever He's around. It's the lizard on a rock as the shadow of a hawk flies by it all over again, pretty much every time, but I've learnt to deal with it. I always recover, though, because He would prefer I remain as useful as possible, and that means near enough to complete sanity.
I'm sure there's a whole lot of irony in there that I could be exploiting for gallows humour (and gallows is about right), but I really am tired. I'll see you all soon.
Oh, and I'm going to go back and edit out that spelling mistake in the labels of my last post, but the rest of it will stay unedited as a reminder to myself of why I can't be trusted with alcohol and an Internet connection. You have no idea how difficult it is for me not to go back and fix every spelling mistake I made. I might not know the first thing about constructing a sentence or even be particularly good at spelling (thank god for spell-check), but I absolutely loathe misspelled words, you have no idea.