Ah, TSC. The only constant, it seems, on this blog.
I’ve been shuffling between depressing fanfic, Maggie Stiefvater’s The Raven Boys, Doug Dorst and J.J. Abrams’ S (still!!!), and Barry Schwabsky’s Words For Art, which is pretty amazing but can only be taken by my pea brain in small doses. Very tempted to start Maggie Nelson’s The Argonauts, but I’m going to venture to finish one of these first, so help me God.
Writing assignments, and hopefully blog posts to be queued for the rest of the month. Sometimes I am in a writing mood and right now is one of those times.
Nothing new… Still not Ryan Adams’ version of 1989 because I’m petty. Oh, this is a great cover of Tamia’s “So Into You” (O.G. pre-Fabolous version) by Childish Gambino/Donald Glover:
Song starts at about 1:15; absolutely loved it. I’ve listened to it about 20 times, probably, in the last 48 or so hours.
This weekend was a blur of catching up, but I guess the new additions were Scream Queens—which is ridiculous but my sister wanted to watch it; IDK if I’ll continue—Bob’s Burgers, which I love a lot as of the first few episodes.
About how much I want a Time Turner. I have the intentions of a Hermione, but not enough of um, anything, really, to follow through.
OK, so this question has made an appearance because it’s an opportunity to announce to everyone reading this that I’m smelling pretty good.
I just said I wanted a Time Turner.
Pambahay clothes and a towel wrapped around my hair like a towel turban. And a face mask. I’m living the high life, I know.
I restarted my Bullet Journal! I added a time table type thing (a straight line across the top of each entry) and a mood tracker. I don’t want to post it yet because I’m still trying it out, but it’s grounding me well so far.
Can I buy a dose or two of focus and discipline? No?
Another cup of coffee, always. I’m trying to cut back by drinking tea, but I think I just shot myself in the foot because it ends up being just an addition to my coffee consumption and I end up ingesting more caffeine.
A little panicky; it’s that type where the bubble of panic rises up from your chest and settles into your throat. And writing that out just made it worse. Thank you, self.
Microaggressions Matter by Simba Runyowa.
The Sunday Currently was originally created by SiddaThornton