I don’t know what in every fresh hell that was, and I don’t think I want to know.
I can’t change the past nor know the future. I can only deal with the present and how I carry on with it. I don’t have to like it. There’s been an awful lot of that over the years, but it seems to trend upwards of late.
I didn’t ask for what I was given, I don’t even want it. But there’s no use caterwauling over a spilled mug of ale. I’ll accept it and move on, no matter how much I may despise this “gift.”
I’m in it up to my scrotum, at the very least. Best see it through for now, at the very least until that Paradisium is sold and the profit from it comes back to me. After that, who knows? If it’s in my best interests, I’ll stick with them. Otherwise, I’ll simply be gone one fine morning, and best of luck to them.
At least the new one doesn’t seem incompetent, and there’s also something to be said about stopping some potentially cataclysmic event from happening.
We’ll see what we’ll see.