Rather a long hiatus, it has been. Being cryptic is the order of the day, so - 'Either I've got a life and they're imaginary; or they've got a life and I'm imaginary'.

Yes, I have been reading Stephen Fry. Again.

I'm overworked and underpaid. And undernourished, according to S. Undergrown, more like.

I must be the only woman around who says 'Are you insane?!' and nearly falls off the chair when a man (that she rather likes) says he's sure he wants to spend his life with her :D And then tells him it's a good sign if she didn't run real hard in the opposite direction! I don't think I'm changing a-while!!

Sometimes I wonder if anyone would even bat an eyelid if I just let everything be and left. I get this feeling people are just waiting to say 'I told you so', even if it's just to each other. That everyone's got this replacement all ready to take over my life, they're just waiting (with bated breath and collective sighs - the works) for me to drop it and take off. Like everything is staged - the silences when I'm in the house alone and doing whatever I feel like, they can't be real!

Even as I type there's a camera that zooms in on what I'm writing and a large bunch of (popcorn-in-large-bowls) folks are sitting in a room and laughing at how retarded I am. And there are guys with walkie-talkies outside this room, reporting my every movement to one another, sniggering all the while. 'Can you believe this? She's blubbering onto the blog, and she thinks it's real! I love my job, when all I do is observe a git like her!'

Maybe I am imaginary.