not a thought. in my head. not one.
NaBloPoMo, NaNoWriMo, shameless self-promotion, whining and complaining, yes I am psychic Add commentsAt least, not a thought that’s printable.
But! (nice segue there) At least I heard back about the small claims court thing from last week. So glad I got dressed up for THAT one!
(Why yes, that was intentionally ambiguous, why do you ask?)
Oh! The NaNoWriMo thing. And the writing-ahead-for-the-two-new-jobs thing. And the Posting Queen at Strollerderby thing. All on hiatus! Apparently. Because, when something’s important to me, then I get all FUCK YOU IMPORTANT THING, I’LL SHOW YOU A THING OR TWO! And then I watch an entire season, okay half a season, of 30 Rock in one night. With popcorn. AND butter. I tell you, I know a thing or two about self-destructive behavior, I do!
Yeah. And then I went out and bought some Tic-Tacs.
So today? I managed to Not Write pretty much all day. Yay me!
Oh, and there’s no internet connection here. I hate that. I even unplugged stuff and then plugged it back in. Still nada. So thanks, Jennie, who is apparently a neighbor or something, for your wireless connection.
So I guess it’s time I show you my podcast.  It’s really quite awesome.
November 6th, 2007 at 10:46 pm
I first read that as “self-destructive butter” which I really like.
I am in a very, very grouchy mood, myself.
Which is not to say you are grouchy.
I would not define your mood in that way.
Just that I, too, am not in complete and utter union with all -that-is-flowing-thru-me mode.
Rather, I am rather cranky and counting the minutes till I can camp for the night on the couch and watch Brotherhood and any other all-encompasing drama I can find.
At times like this I often yearn for my own “Cynzim,” because I am very nurturing to others when they are in this mode.
But alas, since I am split from myself only in my cross-purposed crankiness, I can wait for only myself to turn and meet me in all my dank and cankered glory.
Then, I guess, I’ll be all “union with all that-is-flowing-thru-me mode” and I won’t need my own personal separate from me Cynzim, anymore.
In the meantime, hope your writing flow soon reaches that unavoidable overflow, forcing the words to pour out thru the natural openings we sometimes call cracks.
Ah… life. So annoying. So sublime.
With support,
Cynzim