The Olympics are ruining my liiiiiiiiife...
...okay, not really. But for some reason (procrastination), I'm keeping up with EVERYTHING, even worse than after the 2004 hurricanes and the power was out for days and our generator was hooked up to two things: the refrigerator and the television. I'm staying up every night until midnight watching the primetime coverage, and since I can't multitask, I'm not getting anything else done. Par exemple:
~I actually finished watching Doctor Who last week (well, all of nu!Who), and I've been meaning to write down my Very Important Thoughts before I lose them.
~I am writing fic! No, really, I am! One of which will likely end up being my RPF Big Bang even though I'll probably finish it early (for once in my life), mostly because I would shank a hobo to get fanart of it. But I have to focus completely to be able to write -- I don't even listen to music -- I only seem to be able to write at night, and yet I've been trying to go to bed at a more decent hour. Guess how well that's going by the timestamp on this post. So I've done a little editing on what I managed to write before the Olympics, but not much more.
~Most importantly, I move a week from today. So far I have packed my DVDs and a portion of my books. This is a big, scary move for me, since I'm basically trying to start my adult life over and not fuck it up this time (one hopes), so instead of taking care of the practicalities, I'm all "BUT AUSTRIA IS PLAYING RUSSIA IN BEACH VOLLEYBALL AND IF I MISS IT I WILL DIIIIIIIIE!"
Also I need for men's gymnastics to be over so I can quit feeling icky for perving over teenagers or just-barely-not-teenagers. Perving over the swimmers is marginally more acceptable, save for the fact that most of them seem like giant douchenozzles. Speaking of, you must read this (which, not coincidentally, is the first result when you google "ryan lochte douchebag"). To quote the author from the comments, I would still hit that like a Jeopardy buzzer. It doesn't help that my mom adores him because he went to UF (and apparently, mentally, never left) and all things Gator are to be worshipped.
Feel better about developing a crush on Anthony Ervin, who, in addition to looking adorably dorky while still possessing the body of a swimmer and some kickass tattoos, went to Berkeley. And majored in English. And is roughly Chris' age.
RUINING MY LIFE.
~I actually finished watching Doctor Who last week (well, all of nu!Who), and I've been meaning to write down my Very Important Thoughts before I lose them.
~I am writing fic! No, really, I am! One of which will likely end up being my RPF Big Bang even though I'll probably finish it early (for once in my life), mostly because I would shank a hobo to get fanart of it. But I have to focus completely to be able to write -- I don't even listen to music -- I only seem to be able to write at night, and yet I've been trying to go to bed at a more decent hour. Guess how well that's going by the timestamp on this post. So I've done a little editing on what I managed to write before the Olympics, but not much more.
~Most importantly, I move a week from today. So far I have packed my DVDs and a portion of my books. This is a big, scary move for me, since I'm basically trying to start my adult life over and not fuck it up this time (one hopes), so instead of taking care of the practicalities, I'm all "BUT AUSTRIA IS PLAYING RUSSIA IN BEACH VOLLEYBALL AND IF I MISS IT I WILL DIIIIIIIIE!"
Also I need for men's gymnastics to be over so I can quit feeling icky for perving over teenagers or just-barely-not-teenagers. Perving over the swimmers is marginally more acceptable, save for the fact that most of them seem like giant douchenozzles. Speaking of, you must read this (which, not coincidentally, is the first result when you google "ryan lochte douchebag"). To quote the author from the comments, I would still hit that like a Jeopardy buzzer. It doesn't help that my mom adores him because he went to UF (and apparently, mentally, never left) and all things Gator are to be worshipped.
Feel better about developing a crush on Anthony Ervin, who, in addition to looking adorably dorky while still possessing the body of a swimmer and some kickass tattoos, went to Berkeley. And majored in English. And is roughly Chris' age.
RUINING MY LIFE.