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Oh man, I am so screwed. So fandom screwed.

*sighs*

Yep, it's time for Sam's Three Things About Doctor Who: ( Spoilers for 4.01, Partners In Crime )

3a. I honestly wasn't all that excited about Doctor Who, and then I saw this episode. And man, I'm fucking screwed.

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I had thought when I started on Poetry Month that I might try and make Sundays a day to post new works by Ellis Graveworthy, because I haven't done any sonneteering in a while. On the other hand, the sonnets were very much creatures of a moment, and I never actually sat down to write anything without a real idea in mind of what I wanted to write.

I did, however, stumble across this piece when I was reading through the file I keep of interesting poems and speeches and bits and bobs. It's a poem I assembled from "found verse" in the works of Emerson, another one of my favourite poets. I thought I'd post it here. It's not really mine, since Emerson wrote the words; I just reassembled them. :)

( What Saadi Found In Rome )

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Oh man. Watching R try to cook makes me feel really good about my own culinary skills. Watching him cube a steak is like watching a small child navigating a flight of stairs. With a knife in his hand.

M wrote up a recipe for crockpot beef stew for him, and I'm letting him cook it without help as I don't want any and also it's good practice. So far:

"M says to use a large can of tomato soup. How many small cans make a large can?"
"Three."
"Do I need to wash the meat? It's going in liquid."
"Are you going to eat the liquid?"
"Oh. Should I chop up the carrots before I put them in?"
"Uh. Yes."

Right now he's slowly cutting a steak into one inch cubes, which would not be as hilarious if he weren't using the uncut portions of meat as a chopping board. I don't think he's quite caught on that meat, unlike paper, does not rip when you pull it.

He's also put in twice the amount of beef as the recipe calls for, because he...likes beef.

I told him he is absolutely not allowed to add two boxes of Kraft macaroni and the cheesy flavouring packets. I had reason to worry; he was getting the macaroni out of the pantry.

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OW fucking what the HELL is this shit? My left wrist is throbbing and cramped and no way I bend it feels good. I'm still doing my exercises and everything, even though the doctor said I was healed, because it's still sore when I go like this. *goes like this* So this comes right the hell out of the blue.

I am not down with the sudden shooting pain. Son of a bitch, if I have rebroken my wrist I am going to have some WORDS for the universe. I am not spending another six weeks with robot arm.

THIS IS MY PATHETIC FACE. *pathetic face* OW.

Sometimes I am just so done with my life. *sighs* And no, that's not a cry for help, and yes, I will sleep with the brace on tonight and if it feels like I need to strap up the wrist by Tuesday I'll go see the doctor.

YARGH.