Hrm...

I probably should note that I'm not, actually, dead. Shocking isn't it? I was taken away to London because my supervisor at Cambridge wanted evidence that I hadn't fallen off a cliff. I told him that I got possessed but for someone reason he didn't quite buy it.

I wonder why not?

Thankfully, I'm enough of a workaholic that I had more than met my deadlines and appealed to his better senses to extend all my projects. A few beers and a promise that I'll shackle myself to an early morning meeting will go very far.

My sleep schedule is all screwed up, though, but I have infomercials masking as entertainment to ease my mind.