kittydesade | (no subject)

Wenn es nur anders wäre. Sie wünschen sich, dass vieles in Ihrem Studentenheim anders wäre. Erzählen Sie einer Freundin/einem Freund davon.

e.g. Klaus kocht immer Spaghetti.
Ich wollte, Klaus würde nicht immer Spaghetti kochen.
Michael macht das Zimmer nicht sauber.
Ich wollte, Michael würde das Zimmer sauber machen.

1. Martin spielt den Ganzen tag Computerspiele.
Ich wollte, Martin würde nicht den Ganzen tag Computerspiele spielen.
2. Christoph hört immer Musik.
Ich wollte, Christoph würde nicht immer Musik hören.
3. Bernd redet so viel.
Ich wollte, Bernd würde nicht so viel reden.
4. Wolfgang kommt immer zu spät.
Ich wollte, Wolfgang würde nicht immer zu spät kommen.
5. Stefan schließt die Tür nicht.
Ich wollte, Stefan würde die Tür schließen.

I would like it noted for the record that today I have done my damn doctor's appointment, picked up my prescription, visited the bank like a motherfucking adult, did all my day job work in good time, did my morning exercise routines, did my morning languages last night in good time, did my afternoon languages, and otherwise have been a goddamn fucking paragon of organization.

Can I fall over now? No? Okay then.

This week is sort of epitomizing the reward for work well done is more goddamn work. I have no idea why I am so spoonless but I am starting to count them like Bilbo after a visit from Lobelia Sackville Baggins. And yes I am still Hobbit obsessed, hence the allusion, but right now all I have the brain for is not so much dorking and reciting the poetry as staring at Thorin pounding something in the smithy. As in forging, you dirty-minded people. I would never set that up on purpose. Never ever. (Though speaking of Thorin, am I the only one who caught some of the long shots of Thorin running and thought, that is the longest-limbed dwarf I have ever seen? No? Okay, good. Seriously, PJ, Armitage, I love you, but Armitage is six foot fucking two inches tall and looks it. Even with camera tricks and CGI.)

I need a nap. I need a good long nap, I need my weekends not to be taken up with unpacking and shit like that, I need sleep. I need a weekend where I can just curl up somewhere in a sunbeam, maybe on the sun porch, and read for hours and hours on end. I'm not likely to get that anytime soon, but I would like that. I suppose it could be worse, I could be in the boy's position of not getting a solid chunk of sleep for two days. Still feel exhausted. I have poached egg eyes. You know that feeling where you're so tired your eyes feel like they're boiling in their sockets or something? Poached egg eyes. I have hit that level of ugh. On the plus side, we have not been yelling at each other or snapping our heads off because we're both overtired, and I consider that a major victory.

... Oh dear lord I just looked at the essay list for Grimm I just set myself up for, including one on Wesen biology and a forthcoming one on the Women of Grimm as soon as the When You're At Home sequence finally gets killed off. What the hell am I doing to myself.

Anyway. Okay, writers, let's get writing.