Cotton Candy says...

I brought Cotton Candy, the pink stuffed monkey I got for my last birthday, out to my work area. He's good company - quiet and cuddly. Is it weird that I like talking to stuffed toys? I like thinking that they're saying things to me. I feel a bit like being sick; got a throbbing headache I think is part stress, part staring too long at this flickering screen. My whole life seems to revolve around this computer nowadays. I work on it, I play on it, I communicate with people on it. It's become a permanent fixture of my life and I think it's slowly killing me. Bit of a debacle last night, too tired to go into it but my best friend lost her cell phone and I ended up having to call England and boy, that university of hers employs some cranky people. Goldfinger messaged me, doing his take-home exam. He's the one person who truly understands what I'm going through right now, because we're in the same leaky boat. God bless him. We're kindred. Well, Cotton Candy is telling me I've said enough nothing for one night and that I should abandon all hope of getting any work done (as if I was working!) and go to bed, sleep off this headache. Guess I'd better listen to him. He's been a bit forceful since the day I got him - takes after the person who gave him to me, I suppose. There's a thought, that inanimate objects take after their owners.

Final thought: She's talking to stuffed animals! The spiral of insanity beckons.