My internal monologue is kind of an asshole.

I read. I knit. I watch geeky genre television and more Discovery Channel than is strictly healthy. I honestly believe that nothing on earth is better than a really good cup of tea. My MMOG of choice is Puzzle Pirates. I sleep too much, because my dreams are far too interesting. I possess a horrible reader's vocabulary. This is unlikely to ever change. (Seriously. I can't pronounce a damn thing.) I tend to lose every second of free time I possess to the internet, following one link to another in complete, real-life-ignoring fascination. (Oh Wikipedia, how we love you and your dubious founts of knowledge.) I long for more hours in the day, and am generally depressed that I'll never live long enough to read all of the really good books that have ever been written, no matter how very hard I try. I can't look things up in proper, ink-and-paper dictionaries, because I keep getting distracted by the other words I stumble across on the way. Libraries pose the same problem. I can never remember the word I'm looking for, but I'm reasonably sure it started with a D, and most of my sentences trail off into, you know...