I just took my phone to the water cooler to fill it with water. I gotta get off this project I'm on, it's totally fucking me up. And it's not even 2:00 on Monday yet!

Oh the places I've been! The things I've done! It's like that book Bex gave me back in the day, only in reverse. I am anti-Seuss. Ever been crazy-carpeting in Christie Pit with cinammon whisky in the middle of the night? Cuz I have. And then (several hours later, no influenced-driving here) I drove to Brantford and back with the lovely ladies DiFelice. In the past four days I have defeated the Gatekeeper, returned triumphant to the Big Stretch (with a partner!), seen Good Hawskley Workman transform (live on stage!) into Evil Hawksley Workman, reshuffled my Obishelf yet again, had two consecutive coffee shop order screwups, crawled into my car through the back window, received a stupendously awesome bottle of rum, and had a son of a bitchin' terrific breakfast. The world quakes beneath my lightning-spittin' fingertips. (I mean literally: these lazy final days of winter have turned me into a walking electric charge. Arcs of power connect me to the walls of 3QF from distances of up to 15 inches.) And did anyone notice that I'm in last week's Powers? Bendis is good, Bendis is wise.

I need a vacation.