*Stunned look*

I'm on chat. I'm on chat, discussing the finer points of DDR with a tall handsome 20 year old.

What else do a mother and son discuss when they meet up online for the first time in ages?

*SQUEEEEE*

I still can't believe I'm talking with him.

(no subject)

One of the few things I didn't like about Goth Camp was that one's small tent rapidly became a heat-trap after sunrise, making sleeping-in somewhat uncomfortable. You feel lethargic even after the requisite slumber; your mouth is bone-dry; your limbs move only reluctantly as your brain struggles to wake.

The same applies to catching up one's sleep on a day where the temperature outside is hitting 37C and the house doesn't seem to have a great deal of insulation. I have a 3pm-11pm shift at tthe moment, so after last night's late night chatting and this morning's commuter-drive I collapsed onto the bed for a few more hours sleep-time. And woke. Dead. Tired. Exhausted. Parched. Muzzy-headed. A lukewarm shower hasn't helped.

I feel like I'm walking through a deep, dark fog. Pass the caffeine and stand back - this one is going to be grouchy.