Trying to eat Aidy’s beautiful pasta that he brought me at work last night (fuck yeah carbohydrates for breakfast) but I’m slightly under the influence, and my muscles refuse to move. My own fault, I suppose, for taking up the offer. It is a nice feeling, to think of stress in your head but to not experience it in your chest. Kind of like a bulletproof vest- you feel the blow, but not its full intensity, only what could have been. Could have been, but isn’t. I really should take this more often. It makes me feel ‘normal’. Oh well, off to work I go!