October 3rd, 2003


notes of a morning

It's overcast here in Seattle for the third day. It's great. The office is darkish though, and it's against my religion to turn fluorescent lights on, but the dimness isn't disposing me toward work. Also, it's Friday. But you know what the great thing about today is? I have a meeting scheduled from 4:00 to 5:00 p.m.!

Oh wait, that's not the great thing. That's the stupid thing.

In the wave of spandery kissage recently, more than one person has mentioned having an S/X story in progress, and I'm all excited. And all random.

I did nothing but sleep last night. Sleep and eat pasta and sleep some more. I'm trying to remember back because I feel like I must have done something else during all those hours, but in fact I think, no.

Meanwhile in the demented upper stories of my head, Spike came back home from the Nazi camp and had the stylist chop off all his hair--hair which had been Rapunzeled by magical conditioner ("Longer, More Lustrous Hair!") to femmey tresses--and of course he bleached it again, but he kept wearing make-up and raided Angel's closet for sheer black shirts and decided to become Wolfram & Hart's company whore, according to the tenets of his new self-debasing religion, all of which Angel remains as yet unaware of.

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This could really be an exciting season of Angel. I have made an icon in honor of it. I am all trendy (and bored with my icon set). I was going to label it "trendy" for truth in advertising, but I didn't want to distract from that Byronic and immaculate...ness.

fuck me.

I didn't feel like I was having this huge-ass lunch at the time, but in retrospect as I sit here glassy-eyed and forced to hump out the last few hours of the day I realize that a cup of corn chowder and half a turkey sandwich should not be topped off with a chocolate cupcake or accompanied by a hot, lulling decaf latte while you sit in front of the crackling gas fireplace in the Pioneer Square arcade. I've been hit with the sleepy stick and I have a stupid meeting in an hour and I've done shit all week and still have stuff to do. I don't see how I can avoid coming in this weekend.

I suck and I am tired.