July 2000

I’m not about to say things are great. I’m not about to say that the land of Faith is a cool place to be right now. I’m not about to lie to myself. I’ve been doing that far too much lately.

I’m in one hell of a mess here. And there ain’t nothing no-one can do about it, accept maybe myself. But that would mean taking some action, and for some reason that is so beyond me right now, I’m not feeling the actiony type.

Not even scoring an anonymous loser fireman down at the Hunk and Drive (the gym over on Elmwood) has made things any better, or less heated between me and the slayer.

Only she doesn’t feel the heat between us. Or if she is feeling it I’m sure she is putting it down to some uncharacteristically warmer weather we are having that’s making Giles pine for the rainy days of England more than usual.

So things aren’t great. How can they be? I’m stuck in the no win situation of all time here. Beats being in love with a vampire who has a soul but a pesky Gypsy curse to remove that very same soul the minute he goes stiff. I’m talking more of a nobody wins but the goddamn liquor store type situation, cos least when B was jonesing for Angel, he jones’d right back for her.

What do I get? Scraps I grab onto like Spike down at the town dump stocking up for his crib.

Pathetic doesn’t even cover it.

And five by five isn’t coming close today.