just don’t ask. how much vodka would it take to drink myself into a coma with complete amnesia?
do *not* ask. i’m telling you. and i mean it.
just think something along the lines of “oh my, how terribly freakishly awfully weird can one girl’s problems be?” and leave it at that.
la da dee da daa. never happened nothing happaned. happened? what? where am i? do i know you? oh look. up there. huh. i wonder what i wrote when i meant that. or something. or other. you know? and then you don’t know, you know? yeah. what was your name again? ahh, okay. and a lovely bit of weather we’re having. would you care for some tea? by the way i’m liz, have we met? oh of course. silly me. i forget stuff. when there’s stuff to forget, which in this case there most certainly is not.