So, today:
- awake at 4.30am
- meeting at 6am
- ...orrrr meeting at 6.30am?
- ...surprise! No meeting at all, and no cancellation email. THANKS, AMERICAN TEAM, YOU ARE SO CONSIDERATE.
- everything Isaac could think of that I'd need to know to take over from him
- much quiet panic over having to take over from him pretty much next week
- fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.
- lunch with Scott
- the triumphant return, with good mood, milkshakes and donuts
- Mario Kart
- fixing things with neuroticism and relentless documentation of process
- dinner and a movie with Rage and James
- bought Patrick Wolf tickets OH FUCK MADDIE I FORGOT MADDIE SDFJSDH sorted. phew.

I'm kind of exhausted. No, not kind of. Really quite. My head has flatlined, so perhaps I'll be able to sleep.

So... I can't stop listening to Mildmay. XD;;;; ( SEND HELP. )

Uhhhhhhhhhhh can you tell I want the book now >>

Today was okay except for a few lengthy frustrations, including but not limited to my incessant irritation with my hands. Everything is much more annoying when you are in pain and the shop closed fifteen minutes ago.

Rosie is writing me a cheque, but not without a lot of ridiculous brouhaha.

On the bright side, I have a day off tomorrow and plan to do nothing but a few loads of washing, a brief stint of vacuuming, and a long reading session of the second book in the Administration series, because there is no bad mood that cannot be transferred to Toreth and transmuted into frustrated adoration, much like my love for Felix Harrowgate.

Oh, and the air conditioning? $2500 later? Still not fixed. Fuck me sideways.

Laura just realised she lent her PSone to Luke, the guy who was arrested for embezzling, according to, well, everyone.

Her PSone.

Which is the only machine that can reliably play FF7.

She is just going to go vomit at her naïve idiocy, now.

Fuck me sideways 'til I cry.

dhfjsfajsafgdshfasgafhsgfd save me from this assignment.

Auberon makes amusing faces when intimidated.

Ash is just adorable.

(From the drawing meme that I am very slowly completing as brain-waking exercises.)





I want to read Havemercy.

:(

"You may give him my deepest regrets," I told Hal instead. "And inform him that no one was eaten by ravenous sea creatures."

I am too slow for structural edits. I don't understand the point of some scenes until years after I read them, and that's when the works are published and I'm sure they have a point and I am completely obsessed with the character in question. (See: Papa D.)

jdhasjdhfjs, this is never going to make sense by the time I have to get a bus. :(

Dear Hiru,

How dare you take four fucking years to decide you really were the main character of AtM? Do you realise how I have suffered trying to avoid making this so out of a belief that no one would read it? And now you decide we can throw our goddamn readers in the deep end from page one and fuck anyone requiring backstory?

Fuck yourself, fuck your clan, fuck your boyfriend, fuck your liege-lord, and do it all with rusted barbed wire! You may be my one true baby but right now you are my one true HATE. D:<

NO LOVE, NO LOVE AT ALL,
Your Author.

P.S. - AUUUUUUUUUUUUGHSDFJsfagsksdfasdkfjhasjdfgasflayusdfhas.

*sob*


Of course I am not really angry about this. It means that Tol goes back to being an awesome quirky secondary character instead of a rather strange main character. It means I get to write all the sex he's going to be having, and the sequel makes a lot more sense. BUT STILL. Sneaky little drama queen bitch brat Whorey McSnitface!

(I'll stop calling him names when he starts looking remotely apologetic.)

Do you ever look through your tags list and go, "Whoa, what the hell is that for?" Post some of your more obscure tags.

• gay veterinarian werewolves
• i am the anti-felix
• leviathan is a pretty pretty princess
• or failing that a touch of blind panic
• please stop dave
• racehorses racehorses racehorses
• where are your pants now
• will you need a stepladder

---

Oh, wait, look, it's not all right again. Excellent. Fabulous. You know what? I'm ejecting this from my headspace. Fixing things is a two-person job and I can't even think about it any more. I'm sorry for working through my feelings honestly and openly with everyone affected. Sorting. Presumably sorted. Relief is the best kind of anti-drug.

Incidentally, having looked into that first tag a little, is this my dream publishing house or what?

Okay, that was not just my internet failing, that was my entire computer attempting to dump the memory again.

Have now purchased an external hard drive with my goddamn holiday/university fund, and will spend the afternoon transferring data.

Good thing I've been working mostly on paper for the last fortnight, eh?

[EDIT] ...why does it only take an hour to transfer everything I have? That's... it makes me kind of sad.