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Human interaction is too complicated.

That’s not what he wanted to say, but I think I should not let my Wolf speak. Because we’ve been awake for about 21 hours now, and did not sleep much last night. Nor the one before that.

They tell me that sleep deprivation is like being drunk. I wouldn’t really know, given my lack of experience with drunkenness…but I can suppose there is truth in it.

I just have to look at Wolf to know…
He has been mentally pouring over that exchange we had, and he is so pleased with himself that his colour is different…soot black with ember-orange eyes. And he just keeps scratching the area around that exchange, like a canine marking its territory (you have seen a dog scratch up the ground like this, yes?). Like it somehow matters…

That post I put up about Satan giving you a toy? Well.
I don’t know why a fraction of me feels so pleased…like we successfully insinuated a threat and got what we wanted out of it.

Except that we did, didn’t we?
Haven’t written to K about it yet. Mostly because of the whole bit about overstepping…

Wolf’s glee is certainly overstepping.

So that. It is still a thing, of course.
And also, I am disappointed with my lack of knowledge. I have a tenuous grasp of grammar (shh…don’t tell my coworkers that “English Language” was the class I scored lowest in for my major *guilt*), but I am at a complete loss when it comes to pronunciation and the words for…mmm…describing language sounds. Phonemes? I think that is what they are called.

I have been fascinated lately by the way certain non-native English speakers will say a word ending with a D, but it will come out with the soft T sound that I didn’t really notice until I started looking for it. I think I was mistaking the sound for a K or a hard CH, but it is not that after all. *shrug* I don’t know.

My apologies that I don’t understand language descriptors well enough to even search for the proper symbols for the sounds I am talking about. (Like anyone beside me cares.)

It is interesting to me though…because I spent a long time repeating lines from TV and movies so I could improve my fake British accent (it is good enough to fool someone who doesn’t know any better), and listening over and over and over to songs not for the music, but so that I could listen for the inhales and exhales and listen for how individuals regulate their voices through their breath stops, and mimic the sounds as well as I could…

Jester would not believe it, but I sing a lot. A lot a lot.
I fancy I’ve gotten much better, but it is hard to tell because I can’t for the life of me sing in the presence of other creatures. Nope. Just myself.

I did do another thing today that I am not sure whether or not I regret.

See. My tumbler that I use for work got cracked, and I can no longer be that manager who drinks from a skull.

And because the rest of our management team has made a running joke about some things our employees have said to me–not the foolishness that went on for a while about me being a communist, and not even about me as a Vulcan, though either would be preferable–I was threatened with the gift of a personalized mug, and because I am neverendingly paranoid, I asked the internet and, to my horror, it told me that it need not be personalized, and that it already exists…

So I am waiting for it to arrive in the mail now. Because having it foisted on me as a surprise would be too uncomfortable. And because my protests have not extricated me from this joke, I suppose I shall go along with it. For now.

But more immediately, I shall end this post. And sleep.