Is the possession insanity over? Because, that particular flavour of chaos did not go over too well with my taste buds. Sort of sour with an extra punch of bitter. At least I'm all healed up.

I'm wiped. Time for a major veg-fest and maybe a nap. I could do with a nap. Nap's are nice, they're--they're...

[And she's out like a light, face first beside the open journal. Nothing malicious is going on; rather, Buffy is just very tired. Housemates feel free to accidentally wake her with racket (considering she's conked out on the couch/Angel's bed) or non-housemates can sing really grating '80s pop songs through the journal. It's hard to predict whether she'll laugh or glare at you for that.]