Status of the writer

In which I am whiny and worrisome. So basically, business as usual.

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The God book (whatever the hell I'm calling it today) is coming along ... okay, I guess. I need to be in a snarkier mode, which I just haven't been all weekend, and I have a feeling this is going to be one of those stories I write that ends up Sponsored by Smirnoff Ice (TM). You know, just as soon as I can afford Smirnoff Ice again.

I think it doesn't help that I keep debating myself on the tone. On one hand, I don't want to be a complete bitch about the whole thing, and be respectful of those who treat their faith and others with respect, and so on and so forth. And at the same time ... I kinda have to be a bitch, and WANT to be a bitch, because there's just some things that deserve bitchiness, like abstinence-only education and prosperity gospel and laws saying you don't have to feed your wife if she won't fuck you.

You know what I think I need for this? A six-pack, a viewing of Dogma, and a day alone with my battered needs-to-be-replaced copy of Lamb.

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Heroine Addiction is on hold right now.

The Grand Prize Winner edit would probably be going a lot better if, you know, I'd actually open the file.

I keep meaning to open the Books of Boggs and give myself a refresher and I keep finding more important things to do like watch Practical Magic for the nine millionth time or go shopping for candy fish and pumpkin seeds.

Also, is there a book where the vampires have succeeded in turning practically every human and now the few who are left are a protected endangered species? 'Cause I feel like that should be a book already, and if it isn't I may need to add that to my massive unfinished pile of ideas. *sigh*

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Whoever is the owner of the car alarm that's been going off for the past ten minutes -- although I'll bet it's at the car dealership -- needs to get up and go turn it off before I go do it at the end of a golf club.

HA!

And now, the Pips! (Gladys Knight not included.)

Oh, for fuck's sake, in two parts.

Oh, for fuck's sake, part one:

I walk out of my apartment an hour ago just as an older couple I've never seen before approach on the sidewalk with their dog.

Older Lady (to me): Oh, you're going to Quotes (the cafe), aren't you?
Me: ...
Older Lady: Oh, never mind, it's closed, isn't it? Whatever do you do when it's closed?
Me: *shrugs* Sit around my apartment and wait for it to open again, I guess.

Oh, great, I've become the cafe's Norm and/or Cliff.

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Oh, for fuck's sake, part two:

The hotline for my bank says my checking account is a little less than five bucks. It's been saying this, and that I've been caught up with everything I've spent with it, for the past four freaking days.

I ran to Dollar General for couple of two-liters of faux!Sprite, a grand total of $1.50, and it got declined. So I ran to my bank's ATM to see what's up.

The ATM says I'm a grand total of thirty-four cents over.

I'm not sure with what, but ... *eyeroll*

For the record ...

... if I write a Leverage/SPN story where Parker and Bela compete to steal something, you all have my permission to SHOOT me.

You know, if I ever write anything again. *headdesk*