The foxy people always win in the end...

Okay. I've had my pizza, I'm halfway through a can of Chu-Hi (with several more in the fridge), and the story is due on Monday. Why, then, am I getting ideas for a totally different story that in no way relates to the one I'm supposed to be writing? Why?

I guess that is my mutant power - the ability to only create things when I'm supposed to be creating other things.

I'm pretty sure I'm not signing up for the next (last?) challenge at stagesoflove. It was fun and all, but I've got a fair chunk on my plate at present and...to be honest, I'd like to start writing things for me... It seems like there are so many prolific writers out there, whereas I can't seem to get going without a deadline and the constant fear of expulsion from fandom.

It's a lot like my last year of university. Except, you know, with less student loan money floating around and no roommates (by the way, good luck at the you-know-what on Monday, doktor_m) and way too many grey hairs arriving every minute.

So, I got one in on time, and the other was late. I almost dropped the Liz/Ronon, because I'm having a hard time with it and all my RL stuff isn't doing much to help that. But I refuse to let the jerks at work win in fandom, too.

Itch (Weir/Dex) was the one that was late, and I'm not 100% happy with it. But that could be that writing about a character's sexual frustration begins to sound a lot like one's own sexual frustration (or lack thereof), and that's just sad-making.

I was a bit happier with yesterday's entry, Skin-Hunger (Zelenka/Kusanagi), although I think I was doing a bit of the ol' chanelling from my own life there, too.

I guess the general consensus is that if I don't at least kiss another guy before my 29th birthday, the Powers That Be are going to come and take away my naughty bits, since I'm not putting them to good use.

Thanks to the magic of jet-lag and the accidental five-hour nap I had after my bath this afternoon, I am now totally awake and raring to go. This would be fine, except it's 11:00pm and I have to go back to work tomorrow. Those of you who have lived with me know that I am not a morning person. I have made strides toward improvement in that area, but adding jet-lag to the mix means peeling my carcass out of bed is an odious, near-impossible task.

So, do I lie in my bed for hours, trying to force myself to sleep, or do I stay up and work on stuff until I feel sleepy, at which point I attempt a cat-nap like the one I had from 2-6 this morning? Because I am totally late with stuff, since I got no work done during my flight, nor during any of the stuff that happened after (misplaced luggage, missed connections, huuuuge lineup for taxis in Tach), and I don't want to garner a fandom-reputation as unreliable.

[EDIT - 11:12] Given the way the puds have sprawled themselves over my lap, I think I am A) forgiven for leaving them all alone with only MrsO as company, and B) probably going to stay up, since I don't want to move them.

Dear Zeus, I ache all over. Like, even up in my hairline.

We're moving things from the old school to the new, and it's been a vastly aggravating process thus far. There are too many useless breaks being taken, too many moments when there is nothing to do but looking like there's nothing to do is bad, and I believe I actually told Waka I was going to kill the old woman (Waka's mom) because she was making me insane.

Today is actually a public holiday, but we have to work it. I have yet to do any packing for my trip home. I have bought a number of presents, but none for my best friend and her family. If I plan on doing that, I need to ride my bike to work, and then go all the way to Itoyokado after work. I made it as far as the Ecos last night, before my tired legs gave out on me. (But I did manage to purchase an insane amount of snack-type-foods to bring to people back home ^_^)

In fannish news, I have a sort of idea of what I'm going to write for my sgarareathon piece, and a slightly more detailed notion of what I'm writing for the B-Movie Ficathon. My two stagesoflove pieces are sort of/kind of gelling together in my head. My best hope now is that I can use the little time I have left here, and then the long long time on the plane, to do the best job I can. And roundly curse myself for not having a better work ethic.

Now I am in search of a shower, in the hopes that my muscles will relax a smidge.