Ten Little Chances to be Free (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tenlittlebullets) wrote2005-11-28 05:01 am
tenlittlebullets) wrote2005-11-28 05:01 am
Hell hath frozen over, and won't thaw until April at least.
So. Have returned to the dungeon of my black despair, better known as school. Arrived at four o'clock in the fucking morning, because I'm a moron and left at nine p.m., to find that that little snowfall we got over Thanksgiving hasn't melted here. Also that there is fog. And rain. And way too many fucking deer, as evidenced by the fact that in two nighttime trips down Rt 23 I have hit two deer. Two for two. The first one, a month and a half ago, knocked out my left headlight and turn signal; I managed to jury-rig the headlight, but the turn signal couldn't be saved, and it's just as well because this one left the headlight functional but completely mangled the turn signal. Also I was away for too much of the break to get an appointment with a shrink, which means no Adderall prescription, and there is no way on earth this workload will ever get done without the aid of amphetamines. Urgh. Hate school hate school hate school.
This afternoon was fun though. Mom and I went out to the variety store and I got some fabric and ribbon and grommets, and then we had a fairly nice dinner and when we went home she let me poke through her jewelry--which she almost never wears--and borrow some of it to take back to school. There was some pretty cool stuff in there she'd forgot she even had--an onyx and mother-of-pearl cameo ring, two gold pocketwatches, a silver locket with an ancient photograph of my great-grandmother and her sister in it, things like that.
Have discovered that two a.m. on the highway, like the shower, is a wonderful place for cracked-out fanfiction ideas. Except this one is demanding to be written as a comic, probably due to the ridiculous amount of Sandman influence, and my meager artistic skills are cowering in terror. But it involves anthropomorphic personifications. And in-character!Enjolras!sex. And the line "I'm not a bitch, and the mattress of corpses was his idea, not mine." Undoubtedly it will never be completed, but I find the idea entertaining.
This afternoon was fun though. Mom and I went out to the variety store and I got some fabric and ribbon and grommets, and then we had a fairly nice dinner and when we went home she let me poke through her jewelry--which she almost never wears--and borrow some of it to take back to school. There was some pretty cool stuff in there she'd forgot she even had--an onyx and mother-of-pearl cameo ring, two gold pocketwatches, a silver locket with an ancient photograph of my great-grandmother and her sister in it, things like that.
Have discovered that two a.m. on the highway, like the shower, is a wonderful place for cracked-out fanfiction ideas. Except this one is demanding to be written as a comic, probably due to the ridiculous amount of Sandman influence, and my meager artistic skills are cowering in terror. But it involves anthropomorphic personifications. And in-character!Enjolras!sex. And the line "I'm not a bitch, and the mattress of corpses was his idea, not mine." Undoubtedly it will never be completed, but I find the idea entertaining.