(no subject)

It's been a year since I started writing fic again, if we go by the posted date which we shall because it's not like I marked it on my calendar when I first opened that damn word document up to begin with. I feel like I should make something of the occasion, but mostly I can't believe it's been a year, because that means it's been a year sinc immortal_teacup took a nap next door as I didn't work on my thesis and instead attempted to edit fic through my haze of anxiety. Mostly, I can't believe that I finished my thesis and graduated college and now I have a real person job and what happened to WNDC and Cuddle Puddle Fridays and where did my alcohol tolerance go?

So it's been a year since "Something Death Can Touch" and I mostly don't hate it although I still don't understand why people seem to like it so much, but I'm thankful nonetheless. And so far this year hasn't been productive, fic wise, but I have have 300 or so days for that to change and a lot can happen in 300 days.

That's it. I have nothing profound to say. I might get dressed today and I probably won't shower, but hopefully I'll catch up o Suits nd then go to bed at a respectable hour for my big girl job tomorrow. Same old, same old.