help.. no really, help..urggggh.
I have been on a bender the last 4 nights out of five and my body has begun serious protest. My hands are shaking, I’m mildly tremoring to the beat of my exaggerated heartbeat and I can’t think for the fog. My legs feel like heavy prosthetics and they drag in an awkward, faltering fashion. Fags, booze and karate does not make a happy triumvirate (whoa, pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve used *that* word, niiiice)

Anyway, I spun out my coffee man by asking for a large soy cap instead of my daily large long black, and he looked deeply alarmed as I emptied 3 sugars into the frothy mess.

It didn’t help.

I think I might curl up in the server room under some cardboard boxes, and wait for it to end.

I had a cool dream last night which was similar to La femme Nikita. I was kidnapped and taken to a prison-like complex where I was left in a call with no human contact, and scraps of food pushed daily under my door, alone but for a puppy of indeterminable breeding who became my sole companion. Weeks of this maddening soitude passed before I was unceremoniously dragged out and taking to a training center where it was tersely explained to me I was to be taught to be a spy, a dog-handling spy (huh?). The weeks before had served to break me of my previous life and identity, and to force bonding of hound and human. And so, in my ravaged mute-like state I began the training unable to reason or question my captors. And there it ended. Strange one, don’t you think?