I got a bunch of lovely comments yesterday on my Die Hard fic over at AO3, and when the wave died down, I thought, "hmm, I wonder if they didn't read and/or why they didn't comment on ___" and then discovered that I'd never posted it to AO3, because I used my fic tag in my journal to find things to import, and I didn't have it posted here. I'm wondering if I've forgotten other things, now.
So, in conclusion, for posterity, and whatnot,
any tool is a weapon if you hold it right my birthday ficlet to myself from last year. Which I have just now realized I didn't reply to any of the comments on. Oh well. It's my birthday, I can discourage my commenter-writers if I want to?
Ugh. Tags with spaces. Because I needed one more thing that I don't have time to deal with.
In other news, still not dead, still not back. I am substitute barn help because the full-time guy has a hernia and needs to go back to Paraguay, which he is a citizen of, to get surgery because they have universal health care. I am tired.
So, not a big fan of manure. Everyone seems to think that mucking stalls bedded with sawdust is easier than those bedded with shavings. I am unconvinced. However, have realized why the smell of the media center when it arrived bothered me so. It wasn't a new-varnish smell, so much as it was a freshly-milled wood sort of smell, but the hint of varnish/polyeurethane/stain/whatever reminds me very much of the smell of the barn.