elisabeth

Everything is slightly off-kilter.

Yet that's ok. For now, anyway.

The only way that I can tell what day it is, well, hmmm...

See, I work every single day, literally, 54+ hours a week, don't forget the commute. Add another 5-7 hours to the week and that makes me a good workaholic, indeed.

No time for bullshit is what it all means. There is no time for supposed friends violating boundaries that I didn't know were needed.

There is no time for self-absorbed nitwits fretting about their petty existences, no time for ungrateful louses getting in my face and being utterly annoying.

Oh yeah, and I forgot one thing.

Dear Hands,

Although we have had battles in the past, most notably in my teens, I've done my very best to appreciate you through thick and thin. You've been there for me always, and I don't understand why you are now behaving strangely and going numb.

I hope that you know that I need every precious hour of slumber, and that there is a method to my madness.

Love,

Me

So how the hell are you guys and gals doing?