Climb up on the roof and dance

All I've been able to eat for days, folks: peanut butter & honey sandwiches. Oh, and the occasional nutra grain bar. That too.

I know I'm not the healthiest person in the world when it comes to this sort of thing, but for frak's sake. Come on. Enough with the douchery, stomach. I'm trying to put food in you. I know you're not used to it anymore, but what's up with the bloated bowling ball of acidy burning-action? That shit ain't right. I feel like I need a pin to pop the air out. That, or someone to go in there & disarm the knife-wielding ninjas. One or the other.

Who knew there was so much room in one's GI tract for acrobatics & sword swallowing? Not to mention nuclear experiments.

(The ninjas made friends. Isn't that nice?)

It is getting better though. I know it's just a result of my period ending + acute stress (everything with my friends & family recently/the SI. It all equals life change & subsequent meltdown in my brain) + not treating my body right in the first place. My skin is all itchy & rashy as well. These things take their toll; I know the drill--though it still somehow manages to always surprise me when it happens ("You mean the nervous system actually affects the body? WHO KNEW?" *rolls eyes*). It'll pass, regardless.

In the meantime, I'm distracting myself with a new endeavor. Blame Thank fourth_rose, as she's the one who gave me the encouragement. I was talking with her online yesterday about last week's episode of Bones, and the fandom's curiously small selection of PWP fic (we x-philes put you all to shame back in the day, for serious. It was a non-stop smutfest), and voila, now I'm writing a story about Booth spankin' the monkey.

OF COURSE.

Y'know, because what else would I be doing on a Monday? Looking for work? Jigga, please.

I'm still working on my Brennan fic, don't fret. This is just a detour. It's a fun diversion though, especially because it's good practice for writing something shorter than Anna Karenina-ish in length. (Aw, hyperbole. I heart you.)

There are people outside mowing grass & hammering things, however, and I don't think they have their priorities in order. BOOTH WANTS TO FANTASIZE ABOUT BRENNAN, OKAY? STFU SO I CAN FOCUS.<--this is why I usually write at night.

Also: JESUS FUCK, MY UPSTAIRS NEIGHBORS ARE LOUD. I think they're dropping tanks on my ceiling. It goes beautifully with the honking car & garbage truck that just joined in with the cacophony.

Remind me again why I bother getting up during daylight hours? I need a soundproof panic room for moments like this. I can stock it with a computer, a TV, a sofa, maybe a book or two, some music, and curl up in a cocoon-like blanket of PEACE & STILLNESS & DIMLY LIT VALHALLA-FILLED WONDER.[/secret hermit gang-sign]

Anyway. (ngl, I just put headphones on because the noise was agitating me so bad, haha. My dream one of these days is to just peek my head out the door at the world & yell, "WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THINGS? BE QUIET!" Totally rational.)

The story itself isn't that cracky so far though, to be honest. I'm still going to call it PWP though, simply because of the basis for the story. The whole point is Booth rubbin' one out. Ha. Pretty words or not, it's still a porny excuse for a plot.

If the monster truck rally outside decides to move their show elsewhere, I think I should be able to finish the story & post it tonight. Then I'll get back to my longer fic. And look for work & go to the store & attend an ACA meeting & do important things, bla bla bla. Eventually. At least I'm out of bed for more than a few hours at a time. That's something.

For now, I'll entertain you all with the following:

( Three songs I'm listening to today )

For my Vid of the Day, I'd like to share this lovely tribute to River (by Mq112358) that I found the other day while wasting time on YouTube. As I've said before, she's the newest addition to my list of Fave Female Characters, and I just wish the show had gone on longer so I could see more of her. This vid uses a song that I adore as well, so it gets extra points for that.