1:42 p.m., 30.07.04
Beware ye the hermit

I've been catching up with so many friends in the last couple of weeks, and doing so much stuff outside work, that I'm feeling increasingly antisocial.

Maybe it's because I'm approaching my late twenties. I figure at 27 I'm still technically in my "mid to late" twenties, which doesn't sound nearly as bad as "late" twenties.

Nonetheless, I'm finding myself really valuing my downtime. Nothing appeals to me more than a good 2 hours with nobody else in the house so I can get behind my lovely big acoustic drumset and noodle around, or do a good rudimental workout.

I know it's getting to Nous as well, because I'll get home and fiddle about on the computer, or read magazines, or play my little electronic kit rather than spending time hanging out with housemates or doing things with her.

Perhaps I'm just having one of those "cave time" periods.

Anyway, it's not as bad as my poor little cousin, who said something about suicide to a school counsellor and got promptly whisked off to a mental health care facility in the city and has been there for the last 6 weeks.

She's developed that all-too-common ability to say the perfect thing to shoot down anything positive somebody might say and drag them down into a void of despair with her. It's scary, she's so young.

It's driving her parents up the wall and around the twist - they're a sensitive enough pair to start with, and this whole episode is hurting them in unimaginable ways. They just look like a broken pair at the moment.

SIIIGH.

On a more positive note, my lovely lass and I have been having an awful lot of top-shelf sex in the last couple of months, including a personal-record smashing 8 days in a row of anal. I don't know how she does it. She's a bum sex trooper.

That's the sort of thing that sounds like it belongs on a resume.

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