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Blog Post
100 Works of Art: (Visual) Saints Sebastian, Roch & Demitrius by Ortolano
I am astoundingly pissed off. Part of this is background pissiness at editing + ongoing unfinished business (can't have the requisite screaming match as other party is so blatantly ill in the head right now that it would be tantamount to bullying), topped off with organisational hassles re: holiday, and even I'm not stupid enough to think that holidays are in any way relaxing. I'm hampered in my daring escapades by the knowledge of precisely how much social I can take before I need to sit in a darkened room and not talk to anyone, and I don't want a repeat of hysterics in a locked bathroom from my last major-events holiday (one of the things pleasant about visiting Amanda is that generally it's been pretty low-key and I do get to do things like "doing fuck all" a lot). This is kind of clashing with the "DO *ALL* THE THINGS" imperative coming from various excited friends.
My response has therefore been to scream FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU I DON'T EVEN WANT TO SEE ANYONE and hide under the desk as sitting in the living room with an entirely silent boyfriend now constitutes too much socialising.
All of this is a problem because I'm supposed to be going to Rollerderby today instead of wasting my season ticket again but the idea of sitting in a room full of shouting people getting stressed about who is winning and what the refs are doing currently feels like HELL ON EARTH. Also I am epically behind on my editing. Also I hate ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING EVER.
(Editing having taken over my life I am now furious about all the things I want to write and am not writing, too. YAY. FUCK. EVERYONE. It has been put to me again that I could shit out some original erotica in under a day and sell it on Kindle for cheaps and even with my current EVERYTHING MUST BURN head on I can see that's a good idea but fuck me do I have a cranky mental block about the idea of selling erotica)
100 Works of Art: (Visual) Saints Sebastian, Roch & Demitrius by Ortolano
I am astoundingly pissed off. Part of this is background pissiness at editing + ongoing unfinished business (can't have the requisite screaming match as other party is so blatantly ill in the head right now that it would be tantamount to bullying), topped off with organisational hassles re: holiday, and even I'm not stupid enough to think that holidays are in any way relaxing. I'm hampered in my daring escapades by the knowledge of precisely how much social I can take before I need to sit in a darkened room and not talk to anyone, and I don't want a repeat of hysterics in a locked bathroom from my last major-events holiday (one of the things pleasant about visiting Amanda is that generally it's been pretty low-key and I do get to do things like "doing fuck all" a lot). This is kind of clashing with the "DO *ALL* THE THINGS" imperative coming from various excited friends.
My response has therefore been to scream FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU I DON'T EVEN WANT TO SEE ANYONE and hide under the desk as sitting in the living room with an entirely silent boyfriend now constitutes too much socialising.
All of this is a problem because I'm supposed to be going to Rollerderby today instead of wasting my season ticket again but the idea of sitting in a room full of shouting people getting stressed about who is winning and what the refs are doing currently feels like HELL ON EARTH. Also I am epically behind on my editing. Also I hate ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING EVER.
(Editing having taken over my life I am now furious about all the things I want to write and am not writing, too. YAY. FUCK. EVERYONE. It has been put to me again that I could shit out some original erotica in under a day and sell it on Kindle for cheaps and even with my current EVERYTHING MUST BURN head on I can see that's a good idea but fuck me do I have a cranky mental block about the idea of selling erotica)