Oooooh no. It's finally happened. I've allowed myself to talk to myself online. Yes, now you no longer have to work with me, encounter me in supermarkets, work out at my gym, or visit the library to hear me babble to myself.
Who is this wicked imp, you ask? At the moment, I'm trapped in Utah. I honestly don't know how this happened, though I do recall something about packing up my car and driving... but really, I think it must have been a subconscious need to repay an enormous karmic debt. Why else would I be living in a theocracy populated by ultra-conservative hypocrites? Why else would my "only for a year" job have become so permanent? Why else would I not be able to find the fuse box on my stinking car?!?!? (I mean really, WHERE IS IT???) Ack. But life is not without compensation or a warped sense of humor. Here, in the most beautiful -- but over regulated -- state of Utah, my wicked imp latched on to a monkeyboy who provides a frighteningly perfect complement to my sick self. Said monkeyboy is living voluntarily in Utah to top of his edjumacation with a PhD - foolishchild. We be tied to the place for another un, deux, trois, count'em THREE YEARS!!! So. In an attempt to save my sanity -- what's left anyway -- I will dish up my wicked imp's leftovers at the end of my days. And maybe in the middle of the day if I get bored at work. Probably not in the mornings because mornings are evil and wrong. >;-)