Picking up my laundry at the laundromat. >.< I felt like DEATH this morning and called in sick and I thought, hey, I usually can do SOME cleaning while sick.
Nope. Basically I still feel awful but I dragged myself out to do very necessary laundry before I take off for casa de familia for a one night, one day only excursion wherein I have a ton of appointments and little time to accomplish them all.
Plus my wee doggie. I must hug him.
Ugh. Not looking forward to tomorrow. Body, please heal yourself.
During the day I managed to do nothing as value as even thinking about writing gave me a headache. Thank you. That was...exactly what I needed. Can I finish a fic by tomorrow and see if anyone will beta it for a Saturday night posting? lol no and that makes me sad in the face. I think I almost...have something of a fic urge a-happening. It's weird. I don't absolutely despise what I type out. It's like something's coming back to me.
You should be watching Community, they knocked it out of the fucking park with tonight's episode.
I am so spoiled as fuck for the next two Glee episodes I ought to be ashamed of myself. Instead I'm readying my gifs and thinking about macros. So there.
WILL SOMEONE CLIMB INTO MY BRAIN AND MAGICALLY FINISH OFF MY FIC? It just needs the finishing act and it'll be done. Why is so hard to write. (because it's porn and you want to ramble on about the beginnings and not the end even though the ending needs to be the best part.)
My life is one of utter frustration.
The one thing you will be ashamed to know about me: douchebaggery in characters apparently is a huge plus in my book. Who knew?