Emergencies set my heart a-racing.
I can just hear my fat heart's skinny mouth screeching a vainglorious WAHOOOOOOOU as loud as a heart can scream.
Gila saved the world again today.
Gila has finally reached the bemusement point of no return, wherein emergencies are no longer terrifying matters, but comical instances of cosmic humour.
Today I enjoyed the grovelling and snivelling.
Today I was primped and pampered, who needs a sugar daddy when the chief executives are falling over each other's designer socks to buy a monstre lunch and the thirteenth coffee of the day? All that's left is flowers and matching earring sets and my material needs are complete.
Ahhh, today it is my ego speaking, because my rational mind made a break for it at 8:59 and thirty seconds.
The rest of today was entirely autopilot, and prehistoric quantities of adrenaline and caffeine.
This message has been brought to you by that feeling you get when right after you've made a successful parachute jump, and right before you realize just how many things could have gone wrong -- and still might.
Euphoria, thy name is mortal danger.