(no subject)

[elfinn]

I have a vague idea of a story, the shape is a Villanelle. Maybe it will be interesting, then again, maybe it will be so painful to write or read that I'll throw it aside in disgust. That seems like it will be more likely as things are. But maybe there's hope. It plays with structure and repetition in a way that will, perhaps, be interesting (and could, perhaps, be incredibly aggravating).

I have a vague sense that my world is crumbling in on me. Mostly it's related to work, and how quickly you can be kicked in the seat of the pants and sent back several weeks because of one mouse and one assumption you made. It's making me doubt everything, though, and that is probably bad for my science and my life. Only 1.5 weeks left, and there really isn't much hope. But that's alright, I suppose. It's life, it's livable, just another mild disappointment that I have no real reason to complain about.

So I go back to what has become my ground state this summer - nothing really to complain about, and nothing really to be bouncy and happy about either. Ostensibly not so bad, but lacking a spark inside. Or something like that. And it's time to wash embryos.

But I have a vague idea of a story. That's something new, something different than the rest of this summer.

This year will be interesting.