So... This Maybe A Problem. Eventually:
Seems I've gotten somewhat attached. Curious how that works.
You haven't really talked to me today. And a part of me is a little mopey about it. I hate to admit that, but I feel I should be somewhat truthful here you know?
It's weird. Not talking to you I mean. Or maybe talking to you so much is weirder? I'm not sure. Nor do I particularly care. Problem here is that I haven't really talked to you today. Maybe it's the NyQuil talking, but maybe it's not.
Either way, I miss you a little bit. Just a little bit. Enough to slightly make me wonder about my sanity. This could be a problem. Whoops. I'm going to blame the meds. And the sickness. And the cold.
Quote of the Day:
"Pity the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."
-Don Marquis
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