Sometimes I think my life needs the interlude of the elevator muzac of zombo.com. Relaxing, soothing, welcome.

However, I’ve noticed that my life is basically an insanity track test. I mean, you can’t look at sixty seconds or less of my life and NOT laugh.

I love my internship aside from the time. 8AM. Only zombies truly exist then. I don’t wake up till 1:30 if I’m lucky. It isn’t like I’m not up, walking around, interacting and presenting the illusion of being among the living. But I’m not all there. The last two days I haven’t been because the clonidine decided to grab onto my eyelids and tug violently downwards whenever my asscheeks settle into a seat.

Who else gets told by someone that they’ll hit you over the head with their walker, and it makes your day?

Go ahead, try not to laugh.

Oh, and Levesque is now among the living again. Now that she’s back to flipping me off, I feel much better. But she’s up to something.

Up.

To.

Something.