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Don't want to be at work. At all. Cranky as hell.
elismor is still off making scented candles from tallow or something, so I've been without deeply insane conversation for a week. A WEEK. The kind of conversation which starts out wondering why the hell everything inside the TARDIS doesn't fall over/break every time the TARDIS goes all twitchy, and ends up with Elis trying to win the ensuing argument by attempting to scare me with fistulated cows.
I want to go home.
I want to go home.
