The Stars and the Cookie Jar

Can't sleep. Can't breathe. Oh help.

I feel like tomorrow -- today, now, really -- is the day I must Grow Up. Bind up my hair and cover up my tattoo -- my tattoo! And hobble around in my really very elegant shoes. And smile and say oh yes and really? and do you think so, Sir?

Oh, let me fly away now.

Anyone reading this knows well what I'd rather be doing with my life...

And I don't want any of this, but I can damn well play the game with the best.

Pray I succeed or pray I fail, as you love me, gentles all.

(There I go with my iambics.)

Well, Tuesday's over. Well, it isn't, but it is. I am going to collapse and nap now. I think I did well. Now for Corporate's favorite game, Hurry Up And Wait. In this instance, it's because we have to have a background check come back before they will contract us to any store. Yawn, zzz. Boring.

Oh, and I had to pay cash for lunch for Tina and me because the stupid waiter said I could get no change on a $50 gift cert (or even a balance to use next time) for a $22 ticket. Not wasting more than half of it!

Gods I'm tired.

Got the marked copy of my edited thesis draft back. Wicked quick, that, but it was not a deep reading.  I'm supposed to be prepared to defend it in December, assuming I stay here. How does one defend a short story collection? "I thought it was pretty" ?

Write me stuff. Verily I am out of books, yea, and my fansites and 'zines do not comfort me. Nor does re-reading Diana Wynne-Jones, and Rowling can just go snuff it.

Wow, high heels and a Wonderbra bring out the spoiled brat in me. I think it's the pain inherent in corsetry...

Isn't it stunning?

rymenhild doing her part for fan_the_vote , kids.

(applause, applause)

I think it's beautiful.