February 6th, 2003

elijah

weasel dance

I will not debate Xander's sexuality on BetterBuffyFics.
I will not debate Xander's sexuality on BetterBuffyFics.
I will not debate Xander's sexuality on BetterBuffyFics.

Because I will only snarl and reveal my fangs. Both the slashers and the non-slashers are pissing me off. Apparently middle ground is too slippery for people. Instead, let's take provocative stances and throw blanket statements at people, guaranteed to produce the lowest, most pointless level of discussion on any subject. Gah.

I got spam this morning that said, "Smack the fuck out of my ass bitch!! Click here!!" Somehow that fits my mood.

I have reached the point where I have Lots Of Work here at work, and jesus fuck, I need to plug myself into the zone today and clear stuff off my to-do list. To echo recent LJ posts: I love my job. But I am also feeling very fannish and writerly right now, and it makes it difficult for me to focus. On the inside, I'm like a white mouse on crack, quivering and spastic and squeaking its tiny lungs out. On the outside, I'm kind of just sitting here and staring sleepily at the monitor.

This is also very emblematic of how I often feel at work. Well, okay. That may be stretching it. On my *good* days, that's how I feel. At other times, I am the lazy, selfish weasel. This look at the trends that shape our world also says something deep and meaningful and true about...um, nothing at all.
elijah

sleepy girl

I came home from work and slept for three hours. Yet again, my intention to write falls flat on its face, on the mattress. I had weird dreams. About sex and peanut butter pie and my grandmother. And I want to say "not all at the same time!" except...it kind of was. Disturbing. Also, at one point I was walking along the street with this convenience store manager, who was telling me how his mother died, and I cried, and said she'd obviously been an amazing person and now she was gone, and I regretted I'd never get a chance to meet her. And then he chided me for inappropriate emotions. In the dream, I thought: this is so typical. Typical of all the bobbles I feel like I've had lately with people, where I just can't seem to coordinate myself socially or emotionally. Where my hair rises like a cat's and I reflexively bat out and realize my claws aren't sheathed. Sigh.

Oh, and I also had a long nasty sex dream about Spike and Xander and a tribe of Visigoths. That was nice.

It's so clearly not worth trying to focus my brain now. Maybe I'll just take a bath and go back to bed. Tomorrow is Friday after all.