laurelin_kit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
laurelin_kit) wrote2004-09-02 08:14 pm
laurelin_kit) wrote2004-09-02 08:14 pm
Frances: coming. You: leaving. Chop chop!
Yeah, this is us now, as Becky so aptly put it on IM yesterday.
ARTHUR: Pack your asses up, we gots to jet.
RICH ROMAN GUY: But all our stuff is here--!
ARTHUR: Saxons: coming. You: leaving. Chop chop!
(This is from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
m15m ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cleolinda's King Arthur in Fifteen Minutes, btw.)
God, this is miserable. I'm leaving at dawn. I've taped down stuff in my room, packed up the Blue Fic and the Young Guns fic and all my photo albums. I've put everything fly-able in the drawers and put my sketchbooks in plastic bags and they're in the closet, and my bulletin board is covered in plastic. I spent all day helping put up the hurricane shutters and everything, and at one point it was 105 degrees F.
I don't know where I'm going to put my "shoebox." Which isn't a shoebox, it's a miniature hat box filled with (ten pounds worth of) two or three years of notes between me and Becky. My other shoebox, an actual shoebox, is packed up in a secure airtight container in the safest room in the house.
This isn't good in any way.
And I am so cruelly denied access to alcohol, just when I've decided it's okay to be weak-willed and illegal. Well, okay, Disaronno, but it's a tiny bottle and people would notice if it went missing. Plus it tastes like a dentist's office.
Right. And to top off the stress, noshoebox_project yet. I understand dorkorific is AWOL, and it's not ladyjaida's fault, but...fuck. I was kinda expecting it. Oh well, I'll be up late, and in the meantime I'm trying to put all of the Shoebox chapters into a text only thing so I can put it on my mom's PDA to read in the car.
So. Tomorrow. Dawn.
Wish me luck.
ARTHUR: Pack your asses up, we gots to jet.
RICH ROMAN GUY: But all our stuff is here--!
ARTHUR: Saxons: coming. You: leaving. Chop chop!
(This is from
m15m cleolinda's King Arthur in Fifteen Minutes, btw.)God, this is miserable. I'm leaving at dawn. I've taped down stuff in my room, packed up the Blue Fic and the Young Guns fic and all my photo albums. I've put everything fly-able in the drawers and put my sketchbooks in plastic bags and they're in the closet, and my bulletin board is covered in plastic. I spent all day helping put up the hurricane shutters and everything, and at one point it was 105 degrees F.
I don't know where I'm going to put my "shoebox." Which isn't a shoebox, it's a miniature hat box filled with (ten pounds worth of) two or three years of notes between me and Becky. My other shoebox, an actual shoebox, is packed up in a secure airtight container in the safest room in the house.
This isn't good in any way.
And I am so cruelly denied access to alcohol, just when I've decided it's okay to be weak-willed and illegal. Well, okay, Disaronno, but it's a tiny bottle and people would notice if it went missing. Plus it tastes like a dentist's office.
Right. And to top off the stress, no
shoebox_project yet. I understand dorkorific is AWOL, and it's not ladyjaida's fault, but...fuck. I was kinda expecting it. Oh well, I'll be up late, and in the meantime I'm trying to put all of the Shoebox chapters into a text only thing so I can put it on my mom's PDA to read in the car.So. Tomorrow. Dawn.
Wish me luck.