For the record, Jonothon hated everything.

Today, Jono was sitting in the office at the Boards, scowling. It wasn't that he was impervious to the whole sex pollen thing. As a matter of fact, the opposite was very much true. And, as he'd been unable to do things like breathe whenever he'd been caught up in that sort of thing in the past, this was his first time actually getting to feel the effects of it without having to pick up on the psionic feedback of it from others.

Jonothon. Hated. Everything.

He was fully planning to spend today looking distinctly uncomfortable at the desk, going over catalogues from Dite's, because there were costumes that needed to be ordered for the show, and then they'd need alterations, so they were on a bit of a deadline and... and... shut up, okay? Just shut up.

The flowers that he'd gotten were nice, though, so at least there was that.

[Open Boards are open, cranky Jono is cranky, OCD is long gone and away.]