Warning: gushing to follow

I'm being sickeningly stereotypical, I'm afraid. Mr L'Atelier is rocking my world and I can't concentrate, can't sleep, can unfortunately still eat - but it's really hard to focus. Nothing is upsetting me, I feel like I'm protected from everything that's happening around me by an invisible airbag, I am simply unable to engage with daily life in the normal way. My headiness even affected my professionalism today when my boss asked me to change his flight back from Europe and I did so - but forgot to change his cab, so when he arrived later than planned, there was no one to meet him. I apologised profusely, he told me to relax, but really, there wasn't much to do today and forgetting that task was fairly inexcusable. Will have to pull my socks up tomorrow although unless the world-rocker in question stops being quite so wonderful for even a few minutes, I can't see how I'm going to be anything other than pitifully distracted. I'm just waiting for the devastation to come but meanwhile trying to enjoy this entirely novel feeling of true giddiness and perfect simplicity. It's too good to be true. And he seems to think so too. Remarkable. But anyway - nothing is annoying me, I have noticed nothing except the arrival of text messages for two days and consequently have nothing to report except schmaltz, hence my absence. Apologies, but it's for your own safety. I'm sure I'll be back soon with some vitriol. In the meantime: spread the love.