Not So Very Charming


I have to write this lady back.

I have to write.  I can’t…I’m doing the thing, I’m doing the thing!

I am entirely without focus and I am not really sure how to get it back.  But I need to get it back.  So frustrated, so happy, full of cake, random Prison Break Episodes, listening to my friends and very strange Hamilton/Room remixes.  It’s hard to listen to our fandom pontifications and somehow turn my brain on to think about my life and my reality and I don’t even know how to…I don’t even want to be thinking about any of those things anyway.

I need to float in between.


-I am wildly grateful for these friends, all their different personalities, the brightness and

-Ginger ale.
-Whatever is going to happen in Seattle.
-Werewithal, which I am going to derive somehow to get
-Fangirl focus groups.
-Gold medal dicks and really dumb movies possibly including Underworld.
-Shooting Fish
-Our tragified thoughts about Lucifer and everything.

I have fifteen minutes left and I care, I care relentlessly about this so I aam going to find a way to produce the word count.  I am going to find a way to surmount.  Why am I rhyming?

This thing, whatever it ends up being, is not going to be great.  But we’ll share it.  We will be victorious.    Even if we go past the midnight deadline, we’ll make this work.


Ah, well, that was a nice picture.  I should have had a much nice post to match it up.  Instead, I am bleary-eyed, with a mouth straining to moisten itself, legs stretched out, no longer relaxed as I try to get this done.  I don’t know where to go with myself seems to be the theme both of the night (now the earliest of mornings) and of myself.

I don’t know where to go with myself or what, pray tell, that we will do when we get there.  I just became we.  No reason for that.  Just tired.  Just lazy tired.  I am peaceable towards my earlier angsty feelings of the day.  Chocolate cake in my stomach helped with that.  A little bit of a few other things helped with that.  Also, our conversation turned ever so slightly towards cheese.  And this helped not because it got me distracted enough that I stopped fixating on my employment plights such as they are, but instead, it reminded me of new possibilities and good ol’ times at the market conventions.  Those people who made work so joyful.

I don’t want to run a market and certainly nobody’s hopping up and down asking me to. But it does expand my sort of achingly small and depressing pool of potential jobs to something a bit wider.  There are options for things to do that I haven’t even thought of and its petrifying to think of change, but it could be a really great change that I could genuinely be a part of and be proud of.

I don’t know.  But if I gotta beat feet, I want to know where I’m running.

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