(no subject)
There needs to be writing. And there has been. Unfortunately drabbles do not help hp_tarot get done. Sigh.
I'm also shamefully behind on reading and this may continue for a bit. I'm sure that both hp_tarot and the room of requirement have awesome stuff for me to read, and I'm currently trying to bribe the muse with that. If that does not succeed, well, I'm kinda doomed. I can't use alcohol. If I'm having trouble keeping down gatorade, water, and coke, beer is not going to be a happy, not to mention that mixing with the anti-nausea meds of doom might be a spectacularly bad idea.
So, now I will attempt the dangerous feat of getting my muse in the right mood for serious fic, instead of potty-training drabbles. Should you wish to read the drabbles, go for it. I'll be over here in the corner trying to explain to my muse that no, a serious coming of age story should perhaps not involve a rubber chicken, no matter how funny she (and I) currently think that is. I appear to have reached the "cheese is funny" level of exhaustion, stress, and ick.
(explanation: By the end of my first week of work, I was exhausted and overwhelmed. And oddly enough I giggled every time I heard the word cheese. It was a weird time.)
I'm also shamefully behind on reading and this may continue for a bit. I'm sure that both hp_tarot and the room of requirement have awesome stuff for me to read, and I'm currently trying to bribe the muse with that. If that does not succeed, well, I'm kinda doomed. I can't use alcohol. If I'm having trouble keeping down gatorade, water, and coke, beer is not going to be a happy, not to mention that mixing with the anti-nausea meds of doom might be a spectacularly bad idea.
So, now I will attempt the dangerous feat of getting my muse in the right mood for serious fic, instead of potty-training drabbles. Should you wish to read the drabbles, go for it. I'll be over here in the corner trying to explain to my muse that no, a serious coming of age story should perhaps not involve a rubber chicken, no matter how funny she (and I) currently think that is. I appear to have reached the "cheese is funny" level of exhaustion, stress, and ick.
(explanation: By the end of my first week of work, I was exhausted and overwhelmed. And oddly enough I giggled every time I heard the word cheese. It was a weird time.)