General Bitching

It's 3:45 AM and I'm dog sick. I don't have a fucking thing to really talk about. I had a person email me this afternoon with their built up ire over my site but they were so damned lame about it that I felt sorry for them. It must really suck to be that lame.

I have a fuckton of things I could be doing, but obviously I don't feel like doing them. I fucked around with the outline for the next Lantean Legacy book and then I tried to edit my big file for What Might Have Been's ebook but I got bored with it.

My LJ inbox is empty and I'm precariously close to whining. This is not good.

I should probably go to bed before I maim someone (or myself).

I would like to say that my Kleenex (with aloe) isn't all that fucking soft. Puffs Plus my ass. Those commercials are a total fraud OR my nose is more sensitive that little weird cartoon kids.

Additionally, I read three or four death fics in the last twenty-four hours. I don't know why. Apparently, when I'm miserable I like to cry.