Poor brain.

Brain needs clarity. The lovely lovely brown-black clarity that comes dripping in with coffee. Except brain already had coffee, and it's not kicking in yet.

Fell asleep with the light on again last night. Yet another long, coherent, slightly-to-the-left-of-true dream (I am vaguely curious about why those always turn up when the light is on--they never happen if I nap during the day. G'figure). Rested adequately, nonetheless.

The light above my cubicle is out. I actually like it better this way.

siv_volk, I really really do appreciate the loan, but in future, I must ask that you limit your generosity to two graphic novels at a time. I had all five read by Saturday evening, and I'm sure there was something else I was supposed to be doing.

What else...? Dealt with the Jack of Diamonds, or had him deal with (at?) Velvet. Gave up life savings to the cause of law and order. Spoke with the voice of reason. Shot zombies. Avoided getting shot by zombies. Blew a hole in a really *nasty* zombie, and had him return the favour. Bled. Cursed. Survived. Compromised in the name of (hopefully) the least possible evil. Ended the game with more than one white chip: a new record.

(Peacemakers are better than derringers. Shotgun slugs are terrifying. Soul Blast can go either way.)

Went out for pho at the place that'd just opened up on Bank by Somerset; incredibly convenient, that. Went home. tibialmusician brought several people by, so chatted a bit.