(no subject)

*rests head gently on desk*

Really, last night was like living in one of my own fanfics.

Yesterday I had a rather...scathing email from someone regarding my lack of HP updates, which really only voiced what I've been saying to myself for some time. But I wrote back and explained that I'd had a few extenuating emotional circumstances and my reasons for working on Torchwood were that, well, it's easy, and I need a bit of easy in my life right now. It got me to brooding a trifle on Bernard, never healthy but sometimes unavoidable, and I went to bed and promptly had nightmares a-go-go about the whole idiotic mess.

So what did I do?

I woke up at midnight, got up without thinking, and put on my splint. Then I crawled back into bed and slept perfectly well the rest of the night. The number of times I've panicked while wearing a cast to bed, and now my big security blanket is a strap-around splint that I'm not even supposed to be wearing anymore. I suppose it makes a metaphorical sort of sense, since it's secure but removable. Still, those are not the actions of a right-thinking person.

Well, who wants to be right-thinking anyway.

And there's no time to be moping about it; I have kebabs to make. :D

(no subject)

Ahahahaaha. You are all going to think he's such an asshole. It's hard to explain why this is more funny than anything.

R called me.

R: So, is anybody there?
Sam: No, I didn't know when anyone was coming, you didn't say.
R: I don't think anyone's coming.
Sam: Huh?
R: The Bluesmen bailed and M & B I kinda forgot to tell.
Sam: Your godsister's not coming up? I thought the reason we were having the barbecue today was because your godsister was coming today.
R: No, that wasn't the reason.
(He said it was, at least twice; I tend to think they had a fight.)
Sam: Um, okay. 'Cause, I kind of made up all this food. That sort of should be cooked on a grill.
R: Well, That Girl might be coming over.
Sam: O...kay.
R: So. Talk to you later.

*laughs and laughs and laughs*

You guys will come to the trial and sit on my side if I accidental-done-a-purpose set That Girl on fire, right?

(no subject)

And the grill won't light. Even with a lighter.

I don't know why I bother lifting my head off the desk, really.

*sighs*

This weekend sucked. I want a do-over.

Can kebabs be broiled?

(no subject)

R: SAM!
Sam: In here!
R: So, That Girl didn't come along.
Sam: That's a shame.
(I think I sounded pretty sincere, actually.)
R: Yeah. What's up with the grill?
Sam: Won't light. I don't know why.
R: Oh, that's cool. You know my friend T-Bone, down the street? He has a charcoal grill. I called him up, we're going over to his place tomorrow night. Will the kebabs be okay?
Sam: Should be, yeah.
R: You wanna watch Wheel of Fortune?

And this is why these things are funny instead of maddening.