(no subject)

So, for my own reference, just in case I don't remember why I'm falling over tired when I finally fall over tonight, today I have: done Arabic, done Hindi, done writings and editing Sandborn which mostly consisted of writing new scenes, done picking up, done sweeping the kitchen, done cooking, done putting away all the Christmas crap. Done exercise, done changing the goddamn bed cover that the cat vomited on and done putting it back on and putting new sheets on. Done Latin, done a good chunk of words in non-Sandborn shit, and if I don't feel like I've done anything because I didn't get the curtains finished today like I meant to, re-read the start of this paragraph, self.

(Because that's a thing that brains do, you can be all the productive in the world and make your house spotless but if you haven't finished all the things that were on your list to do today, god help you. Because fucking brains.)

(Oh yes, there it is, I start ticking things off on my dailies and look at all my broken-down to-do lists and feel like I've accomplished nothing. Well done, brain.)

Anyway. I think I might have laundry to fold left and other than that I'm pretty much just hanging out here looking forward to a week when I don't have to go to a medical appointment, call a financial institution, or do anything like that first thing in the morning. A normal week! God, was it really just last week that I had endless medical appointments and everything? Ouch. No wonder my brain was fried yesterday. A weird backwards weekend where I hang around and veg Saturday and get all productive Sunday.

At any rate. This post is mostly here to list all the things I have done and why I am a moron if I start kicking myself for not being more productive. Shut up, weasels, or I will hit you with a sack full of language books.

(no subject)

Okay, since I've seen this all over my flist and Network lately: When you see this, share lines from 3 random WIPs.

Three original fics:
Sandborn
What she would have done, she decided in a fit of honesty so sharp she figured she might cut herself on it, was either die where she was of thirst or eventually pulled herself together and gone on to the next village. Where they might or might not have taken her in. There was enough wealth in her father's hacienda that she might have been able to make her own way. Or she might not.

Untitled
She dropped her fork onto the plate at the right angle to send a piece of wet chicken flying into his face. It was so perfect he didn't think she could have done it on purpose. The argument stopped for a handful of minutes, long enough for the girls to laugh, him to laugh, one of them to grab a napkin, and him to mop off his face.

Untitled Beauty Kincaid dime novel
"Please don't," a third voice spoke up. Her new friend. If she could call him friend for speaking up like this.

"Why?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the man whose balls she held on the barrel of her gun.

"Well, for one, I'm enjoying the first hot sandwich I've had in a fortnight."


Bonus fanfic:
Untitled Grant Ward Redemption Epic
He'd availed himself of Hydra and SHIELD technology both, and just because there weren't cameras there didn't mean they hadn't been hidden better than he could see with his own two eyes. But he didn't hear any background electric hum. He wasn't even sure these people had computers. The library still had a paper card catalog, for God's sake.