I think I'm going mad. It might be a defense mechanism to cope with all the uproar recently but I'm 99% sure that I am infact, losing my mind. I've been laughing now for nearly 3 hours. Not a constant laugh, because I think I'd have died by now, but random squeaks of joy when I remember anything that is remotely funny.
Wouldn't be quite so bad if my laugh didn't annoy me.
My real laugh, the horrid yet amazing witch cackle has disappeared, only to be replaced by a sharp intake of breathe that produces a squeak.
Yes.
A squeak.
Every time I do it, J turns round and gives me a foul look, convinced I'm doing it to annoy him.
Maybe I should start?
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