Dear Internet,
Sorry for being drunk all over you last night. It was impolite and uncalled for, but don't worry, I'm suffering for it today.
I probably owe you (or at least Lestrade) an explanation (and it's easier to write it down than say it to his face). And it won't hurt to have the boys hear it either. One thing therapy (or maybe it was blogging?) does teach you is to say things out loud that you'd really not rather even think.
The problem wasn't so much Lestrade's job, although yes, I do worry one of these idiots he runs after will turn around with with a knife or a gun (or a ligature of some sort) and take him by surprise, of course I do. But he's been doing this for a long time, I've seen him fight, and I do generally trust that he can look after himself.
It was more like jealousy. Afghanistan wasn't the first war zone I've been sent to. No, medical personnel aren't meant to be on the front lines, but things happen. It's funny. I spent a lot of time over there needing to remind people I was also a soldier. When I came back, everyone - my family, the hospital staff, the few old friends I saw - seemed to need reminding I'm also a doctor. And now I'm neither. And yeah, in fact, chasing after drug dealers does sound fun to me.
I suppose, in short (tl;dr, is that right?), what I'm trying to say is: Lestrade, it wasn't your fault and your job is not a problem. Mycroft and Sherlock, I love you both, and I'm sorry if I worried you, and I wouldn't choose to do anything other than what I'm doing. Mostly what I've wanted from life is to be useful, and I think this is the most important job I've ever had. Especially if Mycroft grows up to rule the world.
Love,
John Danger Watson
PS: L, if you ebay the jam drawing I will actually kill you. And it won't be via ligature, so no one will suspect me.
Sorry for being drunk all over you last night. It was impolite and uncalled for, but don't worry, I'm suffering for it today.
I probably owe you (or at least Lestrade) an explanation (and it's easier to write it down than say it to his face). And it won't hurt to have the boys hear it either. One thing therapy (or maybe it was blogging?) does teach you is to say things out loud that you'd really not rather even think.
The problem wasn't so much Lestrade's job, although yes, I do worry one of these idiots he runs after will turn around with with a knife or a gun (or a ligature of some sort) and take him by surprise, of course I do. But he's been doing this for a long time, I've seen him fight, and I do generally trust that he can look after himself.
It was more like jealousy. Afghanistan wasn't the first war zone I've been sent to. No, medical personnel aren't meant to be on the front lines, but things happen. It's funny. I spent a lot of time over there needing to remind people I was also a soldier. When I came back, everyone - my family, the hospital staff, the few old friends I saw - seemed to need reminding I'm also a doctor. And now I'm neither. And yeah, in fact, chasing after drug dealers does sound fun to me.
I suppose, in short (tl;dr, is that right?), what I'm trying to say is: Lestrade, it wasn't your fault and your job is not a problem. Mycroft and Sherlock, I love you both, and I'm sorry if I worried you, and I wouldn't choose to do anything other than what I'm doing. Mostly what I've wanted from life is to be useful, and I think this is the most important job I've ever had. Especially if Mycroft grows up to rule the world.
Love,
John Danger Watson
PS: L, if you ebay the jam drawing I will actually kill you. And it won't be via ligature, so no one will suspect me.
13 comments:
As soon as you're out of that shower you're getting a hug. Unless you still look like you might puke. Then it'll be an arm around the shoulders.
And I'm sorry, there are subjects I'm clearly too touchy about (the gay thing the other week with the child at the museum, and the reaction people have to the job.) It's not that I think it is a problem. My head's the problem. Past experiences are the problem, and I should stop trying to second guess you based on other people.
And I promise you I don't even know how eBay works.
I still think you're a double hard bastard doctor. Even if when the census arrives any time now I will take great pleasure in filling in 'super-nanny' as your occupation.
Posting drunk is like drunk dialing the entire internet, with documentary evidence left behind afterward. I don't recommend it.
Hope you feel a bit more human after your shower.
I wish to hug this entire post, but I won't, because I have some class. Instead, let me just say "aww" and wish you hangover-free as soon as possible.
Awww. *hugs* I hope your hangover has passed now, and that you're feeling better. And don't worry, drunk-posting is embarrassing but amusing. ;)
Lindsay - I actually put an app on Harry's phone to prevent drunk dialling. Pity I can't put one on my laptop.
lawless and Lupe - thanks, I do appreciate it. :)
Have Sherlock change your password after you've had more than a few beers, perhaps? So long as he's aware that he has to tell you what the password is the next day when you're recovered. :)
Other than that, all I can say is that "nanny" may not have the same Danger Badass ring to it that "army doctor" does, but it's no less important. (Perhaps more important: where can one have more influence than in the mind/heart of a child?). The boys clearly adore you, and with good reason.
TL;DR, don't be blue, your blog readers <3 you.
I am currently drinking my coffee out of a mug with this quote on it: "A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove...but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child."
Please do your best to bring up our future dictator in a way that we can all live with.
Although I do wonder what Sherlock will take it into his head to do when he's older...
Random - that's a lovely quote. And Danger, you're important in the lives of 2.5 children. Very important.
i ♥♥♥ you
But I am a little afraid of kissing you, knowing how many chillies were in what you just ate.
X, Random, and justblue - thanks, all of you. :) I keep trying to think of more eloquent things to say, but that's really all I've got right now. I wasn't expecting everyone to be so nice about this.
L - you did anyway though. Doing my best not to wake you up right now, but thank you, as well. You especially, in fact.
I'll ask exactly why you were blogging in the wee small hours in a moment. For now, let me drag you all out to eat some proper, British, food. Sunday Lunch, here we come. (And I'll have a pint. You ready to face anything stronger than orange juice yet?)
xx
I wasn't blogging, I was only answering comments. Doesn't count. Why... Well. Because I was awake?
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