A strange thing happened to me at school today: I suffered from a bout of phantom hand syndrome. As I was desperately trying to write down the teacher’s question in English, so that I could review it at a later date (possibly in the next year or so), I realised that I had momentarily lost the ability to write using the Roman alphabet. Thus my stream of consciousness was vomited onto the page using Hiragana, but with English spellings; very very strange.
After the success of Tuesday evening, I decided to be brave and to pop into the same vending machine restaurant for dinner on my way to rehearsal. This time I ended up with something that was not only not what I ordered, but which didn’t actually taste like any discernible animal. The dish also contained enough garlic to wipe out an entire Twilight convention, but in hindsight this was a blessing in disguise, as it’s probably for the best that I never did figure out exactly what ‘meat’ I had ordered.