Thus, my brain isn't in that holiday place. It's in that "I have a cramp in my right calf that Will. Not. Go. Away. and I've had it since sometime in the middle of the night on Tuesday and it would be nice if it would leave now plz" place.
But I am thankful for y'all. And my disturbed cats. And my disturbed family. Like my uncle who called at 3 when someone was online and said he was going to call back and then didn't which is fair because I didn't call him back either because I'd just bloody gotten online when his voicemail popped up.
And because I am The Good One, I am resisting the urge to call TBQ at half past three in the morning to inform her that I am still not dead in a ditch, just in case she was worried.
I am not thankful that eFiction thinks "Te" is not a long enough pen name. It's her name, you judgmental pain in the ass script. Take it! Take it! Accept it before I shove it down your throat! If you had a throat. Which you don't. Which at this moment is a lucky thing for you, my Nemesissisiss.
I am thankful for Skyy, which is good, and curbs my need to shove authors' names down the throat of my archive script. Slightly. This is not, however, a drunkpost, as, like Wesley, I've had slightly less than a whole bottle.
Still not dead in a ditch; more news as it arrives. Back to you, Dan.