Zenith

I'm it. Staring at my monitor, fighting off sleep because I know tomorrow will suck as badly as today did -- simple fact when you loathe your job with every fiber of your miserable little existence. Yes, I hate my job. Enough to try and slay the inevitable sleep that I'm tail-spinning into, and all it's doing is delaying the crash.

I'm bored. James tried to murder me with some fucking robot unicorn game. I suck at it. Even-more-so when I'm tired and failing at staying awake. 24,048 was my high score, however I said fuck it when JamJam told me he doubled my highest score in one of his lives, out of the three you get. The music is repulsively addictive, the game -- more than the music -- the rainbow blur attack ... makes you want to tear your eyes out of your skull because of the homoeroticy. James should be monitored carefully for the next forty-eight hours for distressing signs of absolute gayness.

Eyeball him. There's something wrong there.

I'm still bored. Listening to Pandora, whilst typing nonsense. Clint's messaging me about the Roku plot. First person to do so. I'm kinda surprised and wondering, "Why now..." seeing as it's been months, since this plot started -- with the death of Edwin Vastile, to the death of Shouten -- Roku's been born and tempered in the flames of violence. And now Clint said he's going to go "Rambo-status" -- what the fuck does that even mean?

I'm going to bed. Fuck this.