You're halo is crooked and keeps making "ffzzzzzt!" noises
I'm torn between wanting to buy my muse chocolate ice cream and wanting to repeatedly bludgeon her over the head with a box of fishsticks. Next month will once again be that lovely time of year.
On the plus side: I apparently have a project.
On the minus side: It appears to be post-apocopyptic coming-of-age fiction.
On the plus side: It's not in a Canadian shack.
On the minus side: It is in the Underground City in Montreal.
I find myself staring at the plans she's coming up with and wondering if I can swap muses. Maybe the muse and I need to go into counseling?