A bit too insane

After a busy morning of work with junior detectives, investigations and interrogations, "Fred" was on his hands and knees looking for clues under the desk in Mr. Durden's office -- and, jeepers, it wasn't much of an office unless you really liked flowers -- when the bite wore off. He suddenly remembered he was in fact Mr. Durden, sat up, and hit his head.

That gave him one excuse to curse a blue streak. The crazy-lady flowers that he saw when he reluctantly popped out from under the desk provided another.

Whatever Ino was trying to say with flowers, she sure was verbose with it. He tore off the neckerchief and wondered if he really had to keep the flowers around until they died.

[OOC: Mostly a linkdrop, but open, sure!]

Tyler was hunched over his laptop, poking at ThinkGeek.com.

Tony's birthday was in a couple days. What were you supposed to get a billionaire, anyhow?

No, he wasn't going to chat up a supermodel.

The office door was open.

Tyler's lip had been split over the weekend by a punch he had chosen not to duck, and it would probably be less tender if he stopped poking his tongue at it.

No, he didn't want to talk about why he'd found a fight in the first place.

Someday he had to find coping mechanisms better than picking a fight with some poor idiot. Stupid Tony, making him regress. Stupid him, caring what Tony did.

And now he was going to quit sulking, do some work for his class that week, and let himself try to be pleased that at least his phone message was good news.

It was Monday, which meant Tyler had to have office hours. So he was in his office; that was a given.

However, nothing said he had to actually work while he was there. Tyler was spending his time at his desk playing the stupidest Internet games he could find as part of an effort not to think about his weekend. (Though the kids' parents hadn't been all bad.)

His office door was open for anybody who wanted to bother him.

After putting the final touches on his first class, Tyler was starting to feel a little low on zen. Somehow, he wasn't quite in the mood to go to the gym and spar. It was time to break his routine.

Which is how he ended up in lotus position on the rug in front of his desk. Breathing. Listening to Enya. Trying to convince himself he was the calm center of the world.

Either he was going to figure out how to meditate, or he'd just fall asleep. And, hey, cures for insomnia were never bad.

[Open door, open office, though I may be on and off. EDIT: The identities of the ladies with the pie are NFB, please.]