They wouldn't allow me to smoke indoors, so I'm sitting outside on one of those crappy plastic tables, typing with one hand and smoking with the other.
Skeptic's been sleeping this past weekend. He woke up briefly yesterday - I thought he was going to shout "April Fools!" at us - but then fell back asleep again. That's the only reason I know he isn't in a coma. They said he was lucky that the blade was so short - and even now, he still has to stay in the hospital for the next I-don't-know-how-long.
Also, in other "I-don't-know-how-long" news, I don't know how long I can keep this ruse of being his sister up. They've already asked for his insurance, but so far I've stalled them. Sure, I can tell them we don't have any insurance, but I don't know if they'll just turf him to the curb when he wakes up. If he wakes up.
Shit, Tom O'Bedlam is climbing a fucking tree. I better get him down before he breaks his fucking neck and we have another person in the hospital.
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