The Stars and the Cookie Jar

I'm having an anxious evening. This is a difficult situation, as I have to open in the morning.

In the 'Selkie Thinks The Oddest Thoughts' department, which is also where I wonder strenuously about the contents of my skull, I'd like to state that my obsession with knowing how to do at least a little of everything, and how to speak a little of many languages, can be connected directly to the Holocaust. I just have this creeping feeling in the back of my head that one day it will be useful in a broader and more sinister landscape knowing how to cook, to sew, to stitch a wound, to do 'x' myriad things. I think it may be a pervasive, ingrained cultural paranoia, but the problem is it's most usually pervasive in people about sixty years older than I am now.

At least I'm not stockpiling bread-bag twist ties?

Hey, my grandparents really do that.

...I should write something. I really should! It would distract me. Except I have to open tomorrow. See above. It's been a year since I wrote anything new that came close to fruition.

That's it. I'm going to do a selkish fandom whip-round funding a jaunt to Mittel Europa. Sunny Poland! Thrilling Byelorus! Clearly it's what I need. I'll embrace the bracing climate of Latvia and come back a new selkie!

Wow. Maybe I'm having an adverse reaction to my Advil.