wildcat

I still - desperately - want to write that Nancy Boys crossover novel before I day. You know, one day when I have money to handle the inevitable lawsuits. Until then, feast your eyes on this: The Curse of Maiden's Hollow.

Maybe because it was Monday, I jettisoned off the reality-stream into one of those tiresome existential crises this morning. Seems to be clearing up with the application of some reality cheques, made out to me by the Rest of the Universe. They're probably not hiring a clerical until at least June, maybe as late as August, because of the new computer system. Fine. I tried to buy a pair of corduroys because - let's face it - I have almost no non-denim pants right now. Went to the Patch thinking I could get some used, cheap ones - but no dice, the floor plan makes no sense, the employees are all Hipper-than-Thou, and the rack of pants I wanted at were behind a cordon during their latest re-construction work. I seriously don't understand that store.

Okay, as of this morning, one week without drinking. It's been a repeating theme over the past little while for the good reason of End of Degree, but that can't be the excuse forever.