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icarusBoy, everything's relative, isn't it? We practically had a party yesterday.
"Yay! Only three mutating cancerous growths -- and Hooray! -- Only one major organ is being operated on! She's not going to be gutted like a Thanksgiving turkey!" Jigity-jig! Hot damn, cue the band.
Of course, in his call last night WG brought up a mood-drenching and cynical thought that got him squawked at by mom. WG is not what anyone would call optimistic and hopeful by nature, nor has he ever had tact. Which is great when you're heartily sick of the candied B.S. the Buddhist world has in such great supply, but not so good when you're trying to keep your spirits up. As I've told him in the past, desperately pleading:
"Don't comfort me! You're awful at it and you're making it worse! Please, please, stop digging." (Alas, WG also has the habit of stubbornly continuing to talk about the same deadly subject to defend it and his reasons for bringing it up.)
He's the sort that when you're worried about the grade on one paper, he'll say, "Look at this way, honey. If you flunk out of school at least you can still get a job as a secretary." Yes. Not the soul of tact.
My English 197 (yes, the benighted retread of ENG 102 that I must do as a pre-req) teacher has given me a couple of extra days to turn in my Hawthorne paper. Which is good, because I've been able to do passive things this week... sit in lecture... read ahead in my homework... edit papers... but I have not been able to do output at all.
But now that we have some mediocre trace of barely good news, I feel energized. *rolls eyes*
Projects on the platter:
- catch up on Indian Socio-Geography reading (this weekend?)
- prepare for presentation group meeting this afternoon
- write that bloody Hawthorne paper
- rewrite outline of the Skating!fic, or else randomly post next part, shamelessly disregarding any rhyme or reason to the story
- write the next part of that detailed John/Rodney "Last Port Of Call"
- write that "how badly can John screw up?" story
- sign up for the Jack/Daniel fic-a-thon, but Christ in a bucket, the deadline is the middle of finals
- other
"Yay! Only three mutating cancerous growths -- and Hooray! -- Only one major organ is being operated on! She's not going to be gutted like a Thanksgiving turkey!" Jigity-jig! Hot damn, cue the band.
Of course, in his call last night WG brought up a mood-drenching and cynical thought that got him squawked at by mom. WG is not what anyone would call optimistic and hopeful by nature, nor has he ever had tact. Which is great when you're heartily sick of the candied B.S. the Buddhist world has in such great supply, but not so good when you're trying to keep your spirits up. As I've told him in the past, desperately pleading:
"Don't comfort me! You're awful at it and you're making it worse! Please, please, stop digging." (Alas, WG also has the habit of stubbornly continuing to talk about the same deadly subject to defend it and his reasons for bringing it up.)
He's the sort that when you're worried about the grade on one paper, he'll say, "Look at this way, honey. If you flunk out of school at least you can still get a job as a secretary." Yes. Not the soul of tact.
My English 197 (yes, the benighted retread of ENG 102 that I must do as a pre-req) teacher has given me a couple of extra days to turn in my Hawthorne paper. Which is good, because I've been able to do passive things this week... sit in lecture... read ahead in my homework... edit papers... but I have not been able to do output at all.
But now that we have some mediocre trace of barely good news, I feel energized. *rolls eyes*
Projects on the platter:
- catch up on Indian Socio-Geography reading (this weekend?)
- prepare for presentation group meeting this afternoon
- write that bloody Hawthorne paper
- rewrite outline of the Skating!fic, or else randomly post next part, shamelessly disregarding any rhyme or reason to the story
- write the next part of that detailed John/Rodney "Last Port Of Call"
- write that "how badly can John screw up?" story
- sign up for the Jack/Daniel fic-a-thon, but Christ in a bucket, the deadline is the middle of finals
- other
no subject
Date: 2006-04-21 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-22 02:05 am (UTC)Icarus