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Leave it to Nora to start the most epic of food fights.

I'm pretty sure I'm still hung over. How does anyone get anything done here?

Does someone what to explain the last few days to me? Those weren't just earthquakes, or weird feathers, or a falling egg. I'm confused, and I'm not even drunk.

I am exhausted. The bakery looks like a Cupid vomited all over it--pink crepe paper and hearts and red and white balloons... It was worth it, though. Definitely ready for a Valentine's day celebration after the crazy of the last few weeks!

Who else is looking forward to pink frosted cupcakes?

Scoob and I are watching the Superbowl. After my brother had to cancel because my nephew's running a slight fever, I'm on my own today.

But I have enough nachos to sink a Destroyer. We're loving the chilli.

I'm sure the neighbors yelling or cheering wasn't because the investigators on this documentary I'm watching found the location of Tesla's Colorado Springs lab, or at least where they think it was, but I think it's super exciting so the timing was really neat.

Of all days the fucking dreams assault me, it's on Super Bowl Sunday. I think I'll just stay in my office and let security handle the drunks in the club. I don't have the patience for this shit today.

Guess I'm one of you guys now.

They aren't so bad. Happy childhood, street rat after dad died, won a tournament that got me an officer ranking in the guard, fought organized crime, and got sent to the Emperor to join his guard. All before I was 19.

That was a really eventful week. Stuck in rubble with my boss and ... a lot of other things. I may have been too distracted to tell anyone about it.