It's a snow day and Tiny is quietly playing computer games. Steve is quietly bustling about and shoveling and cleaning. I am attempting to not pass out from some kind of epic sleepiness I'm assuming is brought on by a combination of Wellbutrin withdrawl and shockingly little sleep over the weekend.
I haven't written anything in.. eons. (Except for that thoroughly filthy Mary Sue librarian thing I wrote for winterlive because she's the angel and the devil on my shoulders) But I've been slowly percolating a story for about a year and Saturday night my brain screamed short ideas at me at about fifteen minute intervals between midnight and 3:30. I'd be like "NO! WE ARE SLEEPING!" and just as I began to drift off some part of my gray matter would holler "AND THEY STILL LIVE IN THE TOWER!" I'd just sigh and roll over and grab my phone and type it into Evernote and try to go to sleep again. Later, rinse, repeat. At four am I finally moved to the guest bed so that if I continued thrashing about in irritated creativity I wouldn't wake Steve and that seemed to be the trick.
Still had to be up early to get Tiny to her skating lesson though, so I've been recovering ever since. I have seen few things in my life funnier than little tiny kids ice skating. They're like the worlds' cutest bowling game out there. Just falling down and getting up and falling down and getting up. There's one kid whose dad is a goalie for the local rotisserie league and dad has the kid out there in a goalie mask and goalie skates. Watching a five-year-old try to get back up after a fall with no toe pick and blades that long is both pitiful and hysterical. I'm a horrible person and I'm okay with that.
Thank you for the sympathetic wishes, I finally found my keys. They'd slipped down between the back of the back seat and the bar that holds the pull-out hatch cover and I would have completely missed them if I hadn't been walking behind the car and seen that my one of my shoppers card tag had gotten stuck sideways in the slot.
I've been lucky as well to have robanybody and laughing_baubo listen to me moan about having binge-watched Farscape (better later than never!) and that's made me considerably less cranky. And the shots of Evans from the Oscars last night haven't hurt either. (Y'all, I will not survive the Winter Soldier press tour. Just be aware.) Tonight it's new True Detective and last week's Hannibal and Vikings season two premieres.
Or it's sleeping like a log. Either one is good. And THIS is my crazy exciting wild life.
Glad you found your keys. I've spent the day being productive (cleaned 3 bathrooms, finished laundry, folded the mess that was my sweaters (now in "I found it!" piles and cooked a luxury dinner that I no longer make because of work.
I want to cut out garb, but I keep getting sucked into the train-wreck on FL, watching this stupid man burn his own place down because he thinks women are 'disgruntled and mischievous' - asshole. I hope his place closes soon.
That's a coincidence. Farscape has been in my queue to watch for a while now. I only watched the first season when it came out, then ditched cable for a while and when I came back to the show, it was all kinds of weirdness in leather harnesses. Never got it figured out.