So that just happened.
Seriously, talking to Irene is like experiencing emotional whiplash in the first degree.
First she's got you squaring up against the blistering blizzard stone-cold ice queen, two seconds later, you find yourself buckling to the meekness of her voice, then before you know it, suddenly she's leaving you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside with a sultry giggle and whisper here and there.
And she does it so easily, so naturally, it's almost scary. With her, there ain't no such thing as reading the atmosphere because she is the atmosphere.
Literally.
At any rate, I meant every word of what I said to her, every syllable she uttered was now my word of the gospel. If she says not to worry about anything, then I won't. For the time being, I'll put any and all thoughts about impending apocalypses far deep in the backburner, where I cross my fingers it'll remain there for the rest of my entire lifetime.