This is why we can’t have nice things

 

Because I will forget where I put them.

Due to a variety of things like:  brain-fog due to insomnia issues, being elbow-deep in trying to flesh out plot points for the Talislanta game, trying to find a Day-Job to make some cash before $WinterHoliday!, trying to find a different Night-Job for when spring semester starts, panicking about spring semester, 12-year old girl-child (enough said), writing fiction and sending it out to magazine editors so they can return it1, writing a love scene2 for a longer piece of fiction that I am working on, and the day-to-day that happens when you live with other people…

I have absolutely zero brain anymore. A raccoon stole it like a carpet in the night. 3

 

 

 

1 – On the plus side, at least they are returning it with personal notes instead of simple form letters. Unless the form letters have gotten sneakier. Which, I admit, they may have. Oh, crap. Now I’m wondering about that too.  :/

2 – Why is that I can write horrible, scary, funny or sad … but tenderness and love are beyond me?
Wait. Don’t answer that.

3 – If you people aren’t mousing over my pictures for the text-floats or clicking on the links in my blogs – I don’t know what is wrong with you. I really don’t.

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