I have been given the signal for death. It’s quite like being able to see the scythe of the Grim Reaper. But I now have to wear a wrist brace at work while typing. Imagine that. I’m only 21, but I have to wear this because of the extreme condition of my wrist and hand at such an age. I think I will go to sleep now. Tonight: goth clubbing in LA. How very. I now remember what a pain in the ass putting on my knee-high boots are. So much lacing, pulling, tugging and oomph. Remember: Feta cheese… good…