You know when you write something, and you think, "Damn, that's good." And then you look at it a week or two later, and you can't hit delete fast enough?
Yeah.
Writing is just fucking irritating sometimes.
After four days in a row of being unable to stand up straight for fifteen or twenty seconds after getting up off the couch, I've started doing yoga in the mornings. I'm not a coordinated or balance-enabled person when I'm fully conscious. And I am so not a morning person. But at least my back and hip won't hurt when I inevitably concuss myself by falling on my head during a downward dog pose.
I feel like I've developed some sort of story attention deficit disorder. I can't keep my concentration on any story for more than three minutes at a time, and my brain is tossing out new ideas left and right. And they're GOOD ideas and they deserve far better than my current "Ooooh, shiney...but, ooooh, the one over there is shinier!" approach. I had vowed to finish the Gemini tag this weekend. I haven't even opened that file.
I was also thwarted in my deep desire for cupcakes because the eggs we have expired on Dec 31st.
Woe. Woe is me. *back of hand to forehead*
Man, today has been all about the melodrama in my head. I think I'm finally succumbing to the cold/flu/malaise that's been making the rounds.