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11 March 2004 @ 10:14 am
Friday! Friday! It's Fri...oh, bugger.  
I wrote for two hours last night. I wrote two short paragraphs. Six sentences. If you wanted to do a time-allocation analysis it might look something like this:

sentence 1: 15 minutes
sentence 2: 42 minutes
sentence 3: 1 minute
sentence 4: 1 minute
sentence 5: 1 minute
sentence 6: 1 hour

You only think I'm joking. And that wasn't time spent playing FreeCell either. Just writing. Thinking about words, looking up words, rearranging words, removing words, putting words back. Most of sentence 6 involved devising an acronym.

Whee.

Must. Kill. Laughing. Co-workers.

My mind tugged me down the path of wrongness last night as, like building a flimsy house of cards, I tried to imagine a storyline where Spike was shot in the head, suffered brain damage, and was cared for by a moony-eyed Xander. But I couldn't squeeze much angst out of this. I may be reaching the Late Decadent stage of my BtVS fannish era. A jaded period of yawning vampires and bored carpenters, of effete kink and ennui.

This morning I threw up in one of the metro elevators. I think it was the vitamin I'd taken on a nearly empty stomach. I pondered about whether to stay home but I have a lot of work to do, so I confessed to the nearest cop and continued my commute.

Am tired today. Would like to be curled up like a hedgehog in a twist of sheets under a down comforter with my bare feet sticking out from one end and spikes of overgrown hair from the other. One glowering, half-lidded eye visible in a cranny of pillow and bedding, then it closes and I'm asleep.
 
 
 
daddy's not done talking: venice (kita)ros_fod on March 11th, 2004 10:35 am (UTC)
A jaded period of yawning vampires and bored carpenters, of effete kink and ennui.

Okay, so now I'm picturing Spike and Xander in Regency costumes, sitting in a drawing room. Low amber lights sputtering against oatmeal colored wallpaper flecked with minature pink blossoms. Xander's flipping through the cut pages of a book he's not really reading, while Spike lounges, legs spread, spine bowed in strange ways, and stares sullenly and unseeingly into the darkness of the garden outside.

Their collars itch and their cravats are too tight, even for Spike, who doesn't need to breathe of course, but hates the discomfort of it, or maybe revels in it, I'm not sure. Xander keeps rubbing his dry palm against his knee and Spike is twisting a feather quill in his fingers. The shush of the feather catching air is the only sound in the room.

They're really, really bored.

Heh.
Anna S.eliade on March 11th, 2004 10:40 am (UTC)
Ohhhhh. I love this!
daddy's not done talking: james_complexros_fod on March 11th, 2004 10:40 am (UTC)
As am I, obviously.

And also - I'm sorry I'm a careless tool. I meant to give you hugs, and give you my fervent wishes that you feel better.

*tender administrations of lovely things*
Pouncer: snuggly kirbythepouncer on March 11th, 2004 10:38 am (UTC)
Am tired today. Would like to be curled up like a hedgehog in a twist of sheets under a down comforter with my bare feet sticking out from one end and spikes of overgrown hair from the other. One glowering, half-lidded eye visible in a cranny of pillow and bedding, then it closes and I'm asleep.

Oh god, yes. I was stricken with insomnia last night, and am working on four hours of sleep. Have raging headache and keep battling homicidal urges toward co-workers. Bed and sheets and sleep sound so lovely.

LadyCat: ladycat (monanotlisa)ladycat777 on March 11th, 2004 10:48 am (UTC)
::snuggles::

Wanna toss me something short to write? I'm busy floundering and screaming at the radio.
Anna S.eliade on March 11th, 2004 12:44 pm (UTC)
Hmmmm. So many kinks, so little shame...I don't know where to begin. But perhaps Spike is a hustler and Xander has spotted him across a crowded room after many years and...yeah.

::flees to lunch::
stumblestumbelina on March 11th, 2004 11:12 am (UTC)
Ah, the vitamin puke. I went through a phase when I was a student of throwing up at the exact same spot every morning on my walk into school. Walk walk walk, nausea, oh no, splatter, fuck, walk walk walk.

It was months before I worked out the link with my iron rich vitamin pill on an empty stomach and stopped blaming the smelly bin outside a restaurant or some weird phantom pregnancy.
Herself_nyc: S/B quip by i_digress_ukherself_nyc on March 11th, 2004 11:22 am (UTC)
Oh baby, those 42 minute ones'll kill you.

I'm sorry you were sick. Never take vitamins on an empty stomach, they're NASTY. I can barely choke mine down. I keep a tub of yogurt just for swallowing vitamin pills with--I recommend this.
Poshykittyposhcat on March 11th, 2004 12:33 pm (UTC)
But I'll bet Sentence 2 has the most perfect adjectives this world has ever witnessed!!!

You only think I'm joking. And that wasn't time spent playing FreeCell either.

Heeeee.

Also, I'll bet that cop was so glad you chose to tell him. Elevator pukes can't be fun. The back-splash alone is heart rending.

How long did it take you to write the hedgehog paragraph of your post? Because I loved it. :0)



Anna S.eliade on March 11th, 2004 12:42 pm (UTC)
Also, I'll bet that cop was so glad you chose to tell him. Elevator pukes can't be fun.

He looked at me mildly and said, "You lost it, huh?"

The back-splash alone is heart rending.

Snerk. I was alone, fortunately.

How long did it take you to write the hedgehog paragraph of your post? Because I loved it. :0)

2.6 minutes!
Sandyglassslipper on March 11th, 2004 01:17 pm (UTC)
yawning vampires and bored carpenters

Hee. Maybe you could write some BtVS fanfic spoof? The characters are all probably sick of themselves at this point anyway.

I feel for you re the vitamin. I'm taking way too many pills the past few days (antibiotics and Advil) and sometimes they just make me feel so icky that I wonder what the point is.

And for the same reason (flu/strep) I've spent most of the past few days under my down comforter, but I still feel crappy. Hope you feel better!
Estepheia: They’re only words. But the feeling...estepheia on March 11th, 2004 02:06 pm (UTC)
I write like that all the time. And then I start revising. *groans*
I feel your pain.