So I finally posted the next chapter of In Medias Res, and now I'm feeling weirdly... let down? Like I'm in some kind of writing-related petit mort state (which, by the way, doesn't actually refer to an orgasm so much as post-coital existential despair). (this translates well to creative endeavors, I think ( Read more... )

I should have just stayed in bed today. Called in sick. Pretended to be projectile vomiting bile and bleeding out of several orifices. But no. First, I was half an hour late to work, thanks to my platonic wife taking the key to the gate with her, leaving me unable to move the car ( Read more... )

It is so ridiculously hot here. I woke up in a pool of sweat. I will be going to sleep in a pool of sweat. Seriously. I just... I don't even know. Despite the heat, I made the decision to bike downtown to listen to music and drink beer in Millennium Park. It was awesome, but I am wiped.

Despite that, today was awesome. FIRST DAY OF WORK, WOOT. I ( Read more... )

Part one is here. ( Part Two )

This is the third week I've won the ae_ldws contest. I officially feel awkward about it. I also apparently can't write a drabble without someone being drugged, shot in the gut, or both. Anyway:

( If this ain’t hell, it’s in the suburbs. )

Went to two job interviews today, one for an awesome job that pays not-so-much (yay, theater!), one for a meh job that does include things like sick days and health benefits. But it's meh. I'd rather work an awesome job for shit pay than a shit job for benefits. I attended both interviews bedraggled and damp, as Chicago decided to bless me on my ( Read more... )

Things ( Read more... )

Title: Any Eventuality
Characters: Arthur/Eames
Wordcount: 8000
Rating: Explicit
Summary: People assume that Eames likes to be in perfect control of everything: how he presents himself to the world, how others see him, how an extraction goes down. That's true, mostly. Sometimes. The reality is more complicated.
Warning: Full on BDSM, with ( Read more... )

I'm supposed to be writing about the American labor movement. I'm instead writing apocalypse fic ( Read more... )

I basically punched today in the face and GOT SHIT DONE.

BAM: cleaned my room and the living room.
BOOM: did the dishes.
BANG: got three article topics approved. This means I will soon be $150 richer.
POW: cooked the everloving hell out of some motherfucking shephard's pie.
WHAM: returned movies (only four days late!) (still haven't watched ( Read more... )