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I answered a bunch of questions for the NMC and had a brief moment of "Hooray! I'm done with my homework!" and then saw the essay question lurking down at the bottom of the list. The crash after that left me fit for very little. (I want my biochemistry to return to a stable level, yes, yes.)
I know what I'm doing for section 41, but I d'waaaaaana work on it. So I've been stomping around and feeling childish and useless all day, even if I have gotten some laundry done.
However,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teinedreugan brought me bread and cheese and fixins for a minor joke to be implemented tomorrow when erispope gets here.
[ Addendum: For some reasonteinedreugan was perturbed when I told him that slices of roasted apple made a good poultice for sore eyes. He went to bed instead, which was probably sensible of him, not just due to a lack of convenient apples. ]
One of my mailing lists threw me an email earlier today, where someone's soliciting submissions for a book about/by people who aren't able to marry their partners legally. I've sent the compiler a query about the project and what sort of stuff she wants, and I'll probably wind up writing some stuff for it even if it doesn't seem like a live project from the response, if only because I don't think I've written on the subject sinceteinedreugan and I were married (or even since back before the teinedreugan/gwynyth/crazy ex/me system broke up). That's the sort of protection my marriage wants, damnit, and in the spirit of political activism and all like that, I'll write. (Gummint. Dear gummint. Please shut up.)
Only I d'waaaaanna do that either, right now.
I know what I'm doing for section 41, but I d'waaaaaana work on it. So I've been stomping around and feeling childish and useless all day, even if I have gotten some laundry done.
However,
teinedreugan brought me bread and cheese and fixins for a minor joke to be implemented tomorrow when erispope gets here.[ Addendum: For some reason
teinedreugan was perturbed when I told him that slices of roasted apple made a good poultice for sore eyes. He went to bed instead, which was probably sensible of him, not just due to a lack of convenient apples. ]One of my mailing lists threw me an email earlier today, where someone's soliciting submissions for a book about/by people who aren't able to marry their partners legally. I've sent the compiler a query about the project and what sort of stuff she wants, and I'll probably wind up writing some stuff for it even if it doesn't seem like a live project from the response, if only because I don't think I've written on the subject since
teinedreugan and I were married (or even since back before the teinedreugan/gwynyth/crazy ex/me system broke up). That's the sort of protection my marriage wants, damnit, and in the spirit of political activism and all like that, I'll write. (Gummint. Dear gummint. Please shut up.)Only I d'waaaaanna do that either, right now.
