The works

I oughta be at work today. And I would be, if I weren't feeling so shitty. I've no idea what makes me get sick so often, but I've a feeling it's got something to do with me being so mentally wrapped up in stupid problems - mine and other people's. But I don't know how reliable that is, 'cause I get sick anyway.

Never mind that.

I've been thinking about stuff.. just random things like how easy it is to mutilate my name.. I'd go from there to how easy it is to mutilate other stuff, but I don't want to ruin my newly re-humanized image.

And other stuff. Like, you know how you'd expect someone who writes all those steamy scenes in romances (yes, guilty as charged, I do read 'em) to be all dashing, and gorgeous and irresistible? But it turns out they aren't. Kudos to their imagination though.

Yet more stuff. Like how I don't want to think about where the hands that touch the same things I touch everyday have been. And how that just got me thinking about it.

I've got a little story I want to write.. it's been in the works for months now, but it just doesn't seem ready to emerge yet... and I'm scared of being like that over-zealous lady with the butterfly, who wanted it out in a hurry and ripped open the coccoon, only to have the butterfly die because it wasn't allowed to struggle its way out on its own. But I'm also worried that I don't drag it out, it'll stay in my head... much like the way I'd stay in bed if mom didn't drag me out.

So yeah, going to try and get something productive done... Not sure what my next post will be like, I'm awaiting the result with interest myself.