(no subject)
So. I am sitting here at 8:45 am on a Saturday, having been awake since sometime before 7:00. This sucks. On weekdays, it physically hurts to get up, and on weekends, I can't make myself sleep even when I'm tired.
Granted, having a stuffy head doesn't help. Hard to sleep when one half of your face feels like it has a tree growing in it.
And for some reason, all the ads on my free version of Opera are coming to me in non-English. So far, German (I think) seems to be the most common, but I'm currently watching an ad for ADSL service with which one gets a free digital camera in Spanish. The ad is in Spanish, not the digital camera. Although it might be. Who knows? Wow, I can still read Spanish a little bit! Go me!!!
I have this urge to write which will go away the minute I attempt something. I may attempt something anyway, as I haven't written much of anything since the great onslaught of hormones, aka pelvic-pain hell, which has screwed with everything from my mood to my energy level to (apparently) my personality, as I have recently become a DYI freak and craft-making obsessor, when a few years ago you couldn't have convinced me I'd ever have need of a hot glue gun, much less the sewing machine I'm currently lusting after. Help, I've been replaced by a pod person.
Of course, the pod person *did* finally get the guest room in some semblance of order, so maybe I should keep her. Who needs to write the next All-American (fantasy) novel, anyway?
My plan for this weekend is to con my freakishly tall brother into digging my Christmas ornamentation down from the top shelf of my closet. Since the shelf is at least half a foot or more over my head, any attempts on my part to do the extraction will probably result in concussion or broken ornaments. Or both. I hope to get all the Christmas stuff up over the Thanksgiving holiday, since life is notoriously insane between Thanksgiving and Christmas due to family, testing, grades, gift-buying (most of which I haven't done due to terminal brokeness), and lots of crocheting. I have sucked on the crocheting front this season, and still have an afghan and 3/4ths to do before Christmas. Good grief.
This will be the first time I've decorated for Christmas since moving here, because I always went to Mom's and there wasn't really a point before. With TK here now, I kind of feel obligated to get out the tree, and once I get that out, I might as well get the rest of the stuff, too. And really, it's not so much the decorating and the digging of cats out of fake evergreens that bothers me, it's the putting it all away. Yuck.
Okay, I want fic to read. Good fic. Why is there no fic? Granted, I could give in to my urge to write some (the 'good' part would be questionable, but it would be fic), but that would be work. Besides, my brain is empty. Except for the snot, which seems to be taking over. The thing is, I read too fast and my standards are too high. I find good fic in a fandom, I read it, and then I run out of it. So I read in another fandom, and another, and another, but people just don't write as fast as I read, and I'm not willing to read *really* sucky fic no matter how bored I am. So now I'm out of fic, and I'm too lazy to do anything about it. My, aren't those violins lovely?
Granted, having a stuffy head doesn't help. Hard to sleep when one half of your face feels like it has a tree growing in it.
And for some reason, all the ads on my free version of Opera are coming to me in non-English. So far, German (I think) seems to be the most common, but I'm currently watching an ad for ADSL service with which one gets a free digital camera in Spanish. The ad is in Spanish, not the digital camera. Although it might be. Who knows? Wow, I can still read Spanish a little bit! Go me!!!
I have this urge to write which will go away the minute I attempt something. I may attempt something anyway, as I haven't written much of anything since the great onslaught of hormones, aka pelvic-pain hell, which has screwed with everything from my mood to my energy level to (apparently) my personality, as I have recently become a DYI freak and craft-making obsessor, when a few years ago you couldn't have convinced me I'd ever have need of a hot glue gun, much less the sewing machine I'm currently lusting after. Help, I've been replaced by a pod person.
Of course, the pod person *did* finally get the guest room in some semblance of order, so maybe I should keep her. Who needs to write the next All-American (fantasy) novel, anyway?
My plan for this weekend is to con my freakishly tall brother into digging my Christmas ornamentation down from the top shelf of my closet. Since the shelf is at least half a foot or more over my head, any attempts on my part to do the extraction will probably result in concussion or broken ornaments. Or both. I hope to get all the Christmas stuff up over the Thanksgiving holiday, since life is notoriously insane between Thanksgiving and Christmas due to family, testing, grades, gift-buying (most of which I haven't done due to terminal brokeness), and lots of crocheting. I have sucked on the crocheting front this season, and still have an afghan and 3/4ths to do before Christmas. Good grief.
This will be the first time I've decorated for Christmas since moving here, because I always went to Mom's and there wasn't really a point before. With TK here now, I kind of feel obligated to get out the tree, and once I get that out, I might as well get the rest of the stuff, too. And really, it's not so much the decorating and the digging of cats out of fake evergreens that bothers me, it's the putting it all away. Yuck.
Okay, I want fic to read. Good fic. Why is there no fic? Granted, I could give in to my urge to write some (the 'good' part would be questionable, but it would be fic), but that would be work. Besides, my brain is empty. Except for the snot, which seems to be taking over. The thing is, I read too fast and my standards are too high. I find good fic in a fandom, I read it, and then I run out of it. So I read in another fandom, and another, and another, but people just don't write as fast as I read, and I'm not willing to read *really* sucky fic no matter how bored I am. So now I'm out of fic, and I'm too lazy to do anything about it. My, aren't those violins lovely?