I have just been *completely* suckered by Lucy. I went upstairs. She was sitting on the lowest set of stairs in the house. I petted her a little as I went by. I came back downstairs. She was still sitting there. I said, “Whatcha doing, kitty?” and stopped to scritch her more thoroughly. She streeeeetched and put her paws on my leg and sort of climbed up my body, so of course I picked her up and she crawled up to put her legs over my shoulder and began purring…
haus!
HAUS! Closing tomorrow at 3! HAUS! Deirdre’s going to write a romance novel. If she gets published before I do, I’ll have to kill her. :)
oops.
I made a terrible mistake. I was at auditions for Dad’s show he’s doing (I was taking pictures of auditioners) and my tummy was upset so I bought a 7-up from the coke machine and opened it and drank about half of it. And it was quite awful, but I was expecting it to be quite awful, because I don’t like canned soda much anymore. And while I was sitting around talking to Mom, I commented that I didnt like canned soda much anymore.” And she looked at the can…
hn.
Hn. Silhouette romance adds a paranormal line. Hn.
ow.
My back is getting worse. I’m lying down again now, on an ice pack, at the moment, and trying to scrape enough braincells together to write. It’s very hard to write while lying on your back. It mostly makes me want to sleep. It’s not that *typing* is so hard. It’s just writing. Being creative. My creativeness is all in a puddle at the back of my head and it’s sleepy. Maybe I’ll take a nap. :P