He's told us not to blow it...

Today was not my best day ever. I had a minor breakdown, but Evie took me out to dinner after getting home, as she just got paid, so that fixed a great many things. Plus, tomorrow, Chris and Magi and I get to blow up a coffee shop (well, unleash a hellhound and a velociraptor on it, then set it on fire, then blow it up - we are going to Tarantino that shit), and that makes me feel a great deal better too.

I have one scene written of my writerinadrawer fic. I am going to bed now and waking up early to finish it. Fun. In the way of sleep deprivation and deadlines. Yes indeed. Expect a post begging you to vote in this one, because I'll be nervous. (Honest to God, I think the story is going to come off as if I'm one of those people who don't like Gwen. I DO, HONESTLY. This is just the best AU idea that came to me.)

Also, going to California for my sister's graduation Sunday. I'll be back the 18th. I'll be bringing my computer with me, and I will have internet, I just don't know how often - it depends on whether I can leech a wireless connection off someone nearby my dad's home. ^^ My plan is to go there with a mostly-empty backpack and a suitcase containing a few changes of clothes, and then come back with a lot of books and DVDs and MY STUFF that I had to leave at home. As well as packing several boxes also containing my stuff with a request for my father to ship it to me. Yes.

Anyway, just thought I should let you all know that in advance so we don't get to Sunday and suddenly you're all panicking and wondering where I've gone. Yes, I know you'd miss me that much. Don't deny it.

Right. Sleep now. So I can be the appropriate amount of sleep deprived, overcaffeinated and deadline-rushed tomorrow.

(Randomly, before I go? This song BREAKS MY HEART when Dar Williams is singing it. I don't even know why, but it hurts.)

And the sky is just a little sister, tagging along behind the buildings...

Up earlier than I should be for going to bed as late as I did. Freaking a little about writerinadrawer. Okay, more than a little. The sun's in my eyes through the sliding glass door, and I'm nauseous in the way that means I'm really hungry but I just can't bring myself to eat because I'm nauseous. Oh yeah, it's gonna be a fun day.

EDIT: Randomly, "Adrift" didn't bother me nearly this much the first time around. Rewatching it for the first time, I am... deeply freaked out by it. Oh, Gwen. Oh, Jack. Kids. Stop breaking my heart, please.

EDIT @ 9:25AM: Dear Me,
Though I know you have a lot of tags in your inbox and you want to catch those, doing that instead of writing is NOT PRODUCTIVE. Stop it. Thank you.
-Yourself

EDIT @ 10:27AM: Nor is scribbling on the calendar, staring blankly at the screen, or glowering at the puppy productive. You'd think I'm going for some sort of "wait until the absolute last minute" record or something.

Coffee is slightly more productive, but just barely. Not the coffee itself, mind you - I don't imagine it gets much done on its own - but the process of making coffee is... oh, never mind. Sometimes I shouldn't say words.

EDIT @ 10:38AM: Oh my God, NO, you cannot make graphics for your Rift mix. YES, I know it needs to be done, but you can't do it... you know... AFTER you've written this fucking story? God, what is wrong with you, self? *HeadDESK*

Also, it's a lot easier to type when there's NOT a puppy trying to worm her way onto my lap. I gave up trying to push her away, because she kept coming back, and now her head's on my lap and it's problematic. And I just know she's going to keep doing this when she's all grown up and FUCKING HUGE. Looking forward to that.

EDIT @ 2:06PM: I did it, guys. I did it and it is DONE. I don't like it and I'm terrified I'm going to get voted out because of it, but... nngh. God, this is going to be a stressful voting week for me.

God knows that everything is breakable...

I just had to remind myself that I could not google "pile of ot3" and expect the internet to understand what I meant and magically give me an appropriate image.

The Riftchat screws with your brain, kids. Remember this.