I have sucked up the sea like Charybdis and failing entertainment will spew it thrice daily, for a f
I've written my Yuletide letter (well, the requests part of it, anyhow) over a series of different notebooks and file types at inadvisable hours of the morning and so it's going to be a) a huge hassle to compile and b) loooooong and rambling. Apparently a life of leisure means I procrastinate on the things I used to procrastinate with.
A small child stepped on part of my toe yesterday and while it hurt at the time, it's unexpectedly turned into a blister. How.
I really want to either continue watching elementary or read srb's new book but for the former I have to wait for my mother to be back from the east coast next week and The latter will come into the bookstore in a week and I have to wait because I want to support my local store rather than amazon. I owe them quite a lot of money for the amount of manga I've sat and read there throughout my life.
The Game of Kings (the first Lymond novel) is sort of intelligible this time around?? Maybe it will stop making sense again a few more pages in, lol. I realized there would be too many pages to staple in as endnotes (people have written companion books, apparently) so I decided I'm just going to write in translations to whatever Latin/Italian/French/Spanish/German/old English that appears. The idea that this was written on a typewriter is horrifying.