Hippolyta Hollister

So, yeah, remember that whole "Hips got LOL'd and got her period hah hah one time thing right her anti-fertility shot will come back soon?"

Month has passed.

Got my period again.

I don't know what the fuck.

Nnngh.

Smegging hell I'm exhausted. Somebody remind me again why I'm running around like a headless chicken seventeen hours a day to get all my work done that I missed? When I could just as easily be lying on a black sand beach in Hawaii while things got on just fine without me?

Since they always do. How many times in the last year have I not been at the pub? Hell, seems to do better when I'm NOT around.

Also, fuck structure fires and everything they imply. (Although, thank you, Severus, for fixin' the memories right after I vanished. 'Preciate it.)

*MAJORLY locked post to Hip's journal. Only the following people can read it:

gadgetqueen, cold_hope, slytherin_spy, derek_bliss, displaced_robo, secretarybird, _ruthven_ and smeg4brains.

Edited to let courtneycrumrin in on the lock. Dur.

Edited again to note that the IP address of where the journal was posted to from is HEAVILY encrypted and untraceable.

Edited AGAIN to let mercurialnature in on the lock too. Double Dur.*

Hey, guys. What's going on in this journal?

I'm sure y'all saw Ramon's post. Here's mine: We're okay, we're in one piece, we're tired as hell, we're out of jail.

Sorry, no poetry. But I'll do a little soft-shoe for ya when I get home.

Oh, and Rimmer, if you drink all my scotch I will stick my fist so far down your gob I'll be able to rip your pants label off.