You know what's unexpectedly good in coffee? Evaporated milk.
It's not so good in oatmeal. Guess who hasn't gone shopping lately?
We are trying to eat out our pantry, though, so it's not completely because I'm slacking.
So, still no movement on the menstruation front. (Ha! I love writing outrageous things like that on this blog. I just feel as though I'm being so satisfyingly uncouth. It's the tomboy in me.) But it's still not really late, not meaningfully late. Just expected-ly late.
So far all the angst is remaining safely attached to my writing. And I am beginning to yearn for someone to read the whole damn thing, but it isn't finished and I am forcing myself to at least finish the damn thing before I throw what will be well over two hundred pages of writing at my friends.
My characters recently had a conversation about fate vs. free will. Ceallach said resignedly that he prefers free will, but thinks it may be only an illusion. Oh, my dear character- I do fear that for you, it is. Cue the diabolical laughter.
Poor things. They've been massively redirected just two days before they would otherwise have returned home. It caused Phillipa to have a little breakdown, but who can blame her? She's got so much spunk that I hate to break her down, but she's only human.
And oh, the worst part of my life at the moment is that bloody pulled muscle. I am forcing myself not to run but I hate it. I have to stew in my stress, hour by hour, instead of shaking it off and beating it out on the pavement.
However, I have found an entertaining anime on Netflix. Good anime is hard to come by. The pleasure of anime lies in its excess, but if the writer or produce gets the balance wrong, than it becomes unbearably corny or simply unwatchable.
This one is alright. A little corny, but the dialogue is pretty good and the violence is reminiscent of Vampire Hunter D. Actually, the whole thing reminds me so much of Cowboy Beebop that I wonder if they have a director or producer in common. It's called Devil May Cry.
