Brandon and I have just moved apartments, which explains the lack of posting. This month is also unusually deadline-heavy. With a rare and excellent kind of deadline, fortunately – that is, the kind that doesn’t make you hate your life when it’s 4am and you still aren’t finished for the day. But deadlines are still deadlines, you know? Angry gods that demand ritual cosy behaviour and frequent sacrifices of many baked goods.
And there’s something about the combination of both immediate deadlines, and emergent move-related nesting instincts. It results in unusually strong material wants. Like two waves in phase meeting at the crest to produce one giant wave of selfish, selfish, shrieking yearning. So I think that I’m actually going to have to put aside the month of April, and dedicate it to all the things I want.
Guys. It is a lot of things.
So let’s start. First of all, and perhaps most reasonably, I’d really like a package. The above assortment: many fine little things that would pair well with some hefty, familiar fantasy novel from my childhood. I’d demand that my sister make it for me, but that would be a dick move just right now as she’s flying to Prague in a week for a forestry conference. Prague! Damn that girl.
It would be a dick move, right? Probably? It probably would.
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