Blech
This week has kind of sucked. No, actually it pretty much sucked.
Jet lag and insomnia. All kinds of crap happening at work, ranging from contract-law stuff to stupid interoffice drama because people can't mind their damned business. And other things that felt like the morale equivalent of a kneecapping going down on the home front.
In more positive news, my yucca plants are in bloom. I don't think I can make soup with them this year, but they might yield up enough blossoms for an omelet. Also, my nineteen boxes and various pieces of furniture finally arrived from California, and only one thing is broken thus far. I've been afraid to open some of the boxes, though. :(
It's weird to have my childhood bedroom set here in my new home, three thousand miles from where it's supposed to be. I mean... I used that bed as a kid. My mom used it when she was a teenager. And now it's here in Michigan, awaiting... potential kids, I guess. Or short and lightweight guests. My two showpiece dollhouses, the San Franciscan and the Spanish-style, are sitting next to one another on a table like the beginnings of some bizarre subdivision for 1/12 size people. They are also awaiting... something. Not sure what yet. Hopefully restoration.
I haven't written in days. My head just hasn't been there. Last week was a fever dream when it came to writing, and this week is just... nothing. No energy. Can't even finish these two drabble requests that have been sitting for... what, two weeks now? Hell, I can't concentrate long enough to respond to the messages I've received since Saturday, which is just sad.
Going to Florida next week, though. Maybe that'll spark something.
At least the house is slightly closer to being clean.
Jet lag and insomnia. All kinds of crap happening at work, ranging from contract-law stuff to stupid interoffice drama because people can't mind their damned business. And other things that felt like the morale equivalent of a kneecapping going down on the home front.
In more positive news, my yucca plants are in bloom. I don't think I can make soup with them this year, but they might yield up enough blossoms for an omelet. Also, my nineteen boxes and various pieces of furniture finally arrived from California, and only one thing is broken thus far. I've been afraid to open some of the boxes, though. :(
It's weird to have my childhood bedroom set here in my new home, three thousand miles from where it's supposed to be. I mean... I used that bed as a kid. My mom used it when she was a teenager. And now it's here in Michigan, awaiting... potential kids, I guess. Or short and lightweight guests. My two showpiece dollhouses, the San Franciscan and the Spanish-style, are sitting next to one another on a table like the beginnings of some bizarre subdivision for 1/12 size people. They are also awaiting... something. Not sure what yet. Hopefully restoration.
I haven't written in days. My head just hasn't been there. Last week was a fever dream when it came to writing, and this week is just... nothing. No energy. Can't even finish these two drabble requests that have been sitting for... what, two weeks now? Hell, I can't concentrate long enough to respond to the messages I've received since Saturday, which is just sad.
Going to Florida next week, though. Maybe that'll spark something.
At least the house is slightly closer to being clean.