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Life is complete crap lately. My girly parts are fucked up, my digestive parts are fucked up, my head is completely insane. My marriage is frustrating. I hate my family. Yes, I finally saw a therapist. And I know it will get better, but right now it's all just horrid.
Right. Enough whining.
Going to Big Sur with my best friend from college, for 4 days. Should be good, the visiting, the hiking, the not being around anyone stressful. Now all I have to do is not get confused about friend-love versus anything else-love with her again.
I'm not coming home until I finish writing the bondage fic. ;)
I keep writing long-winded "Author's Notes" at night, in my head, and then realize they're just apologies for not being a better writer and not so subtle pleas for attention. An author shouldn't apologize for a fic, imo. You write it, you put it out there, people like it or they don't. The end. If I was the Best Writer Ever, I'd have a Pulitzer or something. I don't, so what's with the apologetic ANs, right?
Christ. I'm not even making sense to myself anymore.