[...]

So here it is Monday morning and it feels like I fell off a cliff, or have been in a coma or something.

Some of it was being in some angsty headspace wherein I despair that I am not allowed to come out and play with the cool kids ... but that's twisty and complicated and not for a Monday morning.

Spent my self-imposed snow day Friday getting my house all ready for some pals to come over and watch stupid movies. I had gotten a lot of "maybes" in response to my invite, so I was pretty sure there were only going to be a couple of us... but there were five of us there to watch GDL's Sherlock/Cyberman/Why the hell didn't anyone tell me there were tentacles?! HORROR-LARITY. Hello plot holes. We spent the whole movie going "why didn't the dinosaur eat the prostitute?" no really... we want to know. Actually, we really just want to know why no one in 1882 seems surprised to see dinosaurs wandering around London. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAH. Also random peacock? LOL.

Then. We had a pile of about six movies to watch, but after we ate, and two of the five of us left for other places they had to be, it was just me, and director Cee and our actor friend Julia.

We sat and talked for the next seven hours!!!!!! We never even got to another movie.

And I don't even know what we talked about. This and that and nothing terribly earth shattering.

I wore out eventually. Physically and mentally. My throat is still sore. And I sort of gave up talking eventually as they were happy to chat between themselves. See, I don't talk to anyone routinely. I talk to my mother for between 10 and 15 minutes a day. And random "Hi, how're you?" chat with co-workers." Other than that... I dont' see people, I don't talk to them.

So when confronted with 7 hours of discussion, I think my brain shut down.

And then Sunday I woke up with a terrible headache, was sick all day, and then had to drag myself to my parents for sunday dinner and more or less pretend I was fine. I did end up feeling almost human by the time I left there, but was still pretty fragile all evening. I don't know where these sick headaches are coming from or why I am so queasy suddenly.

So Sunday I didn't even look at the internets all day.

So now I have catching up to do. Seems like I am always behind.

And now I have to go rush catalog some stupid DVD that someone suddenly has to have today.

Welcome Monday. You're already kicking my ass...

reel-y?!

Don't want to commit to writing this, as I already have the dark_fest story to write... but as I was working on this title here in RL ... I realized it would make a wonderful reel_torchwood Jack story:

A Matter of Life and Death (Stairway to Heaven)

British flyer Peter Carter survives a jump from his burning plane without parachute and wakes up in a nether world between Earth and the next life. He is informed that he should have died and must go to Heaven, where he is put on trial for his life.

It's got SCOPE! :)

must dash as people are screaming for this title...

from the department of better late than never...

Title: Torpor
Sin: Sloth
Character: Owen
Word count: 100
Rated: PG

He lay there, drowsy, half-awake, eyes shut, fingers tracing random patterns over his bedmate’s skin. He listened to her soft even breaths as he buried his nose into the hair at the nape of her neck. His phone chirped. A summons ignored, he pulled the sheet over their shoulders. Half awake, she stretched, and then rolled over. He knew he should go, but chose to remain, safe, warmed by the body heat of this nameless woman. He never bothered with their names. In his head, they were always Katie.