(no subject)

My internet client sulks whenever I try to send edits back to people. Anyone would think I was editing it and not some poor innocent many, many miles away. Once it behaves, the last email will go and the evening will be devoted to editing myself. Or an editor editing me. It all depends on the hour.

Of course, I shall have things like dinner and scented baths as well. It's Sunday evening and not the right time to overwork, after all.

(no subject)

I've been boring for days and days and days now. I think I'm setting a personal record.

Tomorrow I'll be interesting. Warped, maybe. But interesting.

Right now, though, I'm making pancakes.