(no subject)
Today? Today it's cold and wet and rainy. Yesterday I was walking barefoot around my apartment complex, wearing boxers and a t-shirt. It's hardly fair, that the weather can turn so quickly. I hate when it's dreary - it makes me feel sleepy, like crawling back under the blankets and just staying there. Of course, only having a couple of hours of sleep might exacerbate this. Damn you, Charlotte! You and your excellent writing and your European timezone! ♥
I'm at work, looking out at the dogwood trees outside the window on my lunch break. When I go back to my desk, I'll be working on fanfiction. For Charlotte, again! Who gives me weird plotbunnies and complains that no one writes the odd pairing she wants, and who I'm happy to oblige because seriously, how is there no G/N fic in the world? There's Georgina and Eric, for the love of God! But none with Nate. This must be corrected.
So anyway. Fielding phone calls from the obnoxious customers between paragraphs. Or is it writing paragraphs between obnoxious phone calls? I'm never sure. I'm sure that I wish Aaron was back (I've stopped calling him Mark, finally) so that I could be discussing Irish poetry with him. I don't know how he can read it without grasping the meaning behind it! I don't know how anyone can. But apparently that's just me, and everyone knows how much I like looking brilliant, so I spent the first half of my day deciphering it for him. And in return? I get the book! Yay! Nothing like free poetry.
So! Now I'm back to my writing. Which, hopefully, makes more sense than this journal entry. I can never think in straight lines when there's a TV on, and I'm too lazy to go turn the one in here off. Bah, I say. Bah.
PS: I miss my sister, Eric. You better be taking good care of her. And you should let her call me. Love, Elle
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Aaron: Yes ma'am, I'd be happy to help you with that.
Crockett: I bet you would. I know what you'd be happy to do with her.
Aaron: No, that's fine - you take your time.
Crockett: Oh yeah, take your time.
Aaron: Oh, sure! If you can just send in that payment then I can...
Crockett: Nope, nope. Tell her to pull on her nipples and then you'll adjust that late fee.
Aaron: hanging up call, oblivious Did you say something?
Me: I'm moving desks.
I'm at work, looking out at the dogwood trees outside the window on my lunch break. When I go back to my desk, I'll be working on fanfiction. For Charlotte, again! Who gives me weird plotbunnies and complains that no one writes the odd pairing she wants, and who I'm happy to oblige because seriously, how is there no G/N fic in the world? There's Georgina and Eric, for the love of God! But none with Nate. This must be corrected.
So anyway. Fielding phone calls from the obnoxious customers between paragraphs. Or is it writing paragraphs between obnoxious phone calls? I'm never sure. I'm sure that I wish Aaron was back (I've stopped calling him Mark, finally) so that I could be discussing Irish poetry with him. I don't know how he can read it without grasping the meaning behind it! I don't know how anyone can. But apparently that's just me, and everyone knows how much I like looking brilliant, so I spent the first half of my day deciphering it for him. And in return? I get the book! Yay! Nothing like free poetry.
So! Now I'm back to my writing. Which, hopefully, makes more sense than this journal entry. I can never think in straight lines when there's a TV on, and I'm too lazy to go turn the one in here off. Bah, I say. Bah.
PS: I miss my sister, Eric. You better be taking good care of her. And you should let her call me. Love, Elle
----------
Aaron: Yes ma'am, I'd be happy to help you with that.
Crockett: I bet you would. I know what you'd be happy to do with her.
Aaron: No, that's fine - you take your time.
Crockett: Oh yeah, take your time.
Aaron: Oh, sure! If you can just send in that payment then I can...
Crockett: Nope, nope. Tell her to pull on her nipples and then you'll adjust that late fee.
Aaron: hanging up call, oblivious Did you say something?
Me: I'm moving desks.