Stupid mixed states.

Now I have to figure out how to hide my arm for the next six weeks while it heals. In a restaurant it's awful hard to work without pushing your sleeves up past the elbow. Maybe I'll wrap it up and say I burnt myself on the rice cooker.

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I really, really, really hate mixed episodes. I am fortune in that I recognise when I having one and take precautions against doing anything stupid. Like yesterday. Surround myself with my managers, go to see Carrie, indulging Q in his "I went poop in the potty and now I want Noodles & Co." requests (a long standing one). Pdoc recommended the ( Read more... )