Tears

The most wretched realization to a writer: continuity error

Le sigh. Six lousy pages of porn, and I managed a continuity error. One so big it requires a major re-imagining of the ending--- the ending I already once totally gutted and re-wrote from the blank page up. Third time's the charm, right? Right? Tell, me right?


Onto to draft # 27 or something.

No scrapbooking!

Ugh. I had to go to Michaels' (where pre-packaged creativity begins) today. That store is so suburban and middle-aged, when I walk in, my breasts sag.

Worse, one of the things I went in there for was scrapbooking paper. SCRAPBOOKING PAPER. It was all I could do to *not* tell the cashier, "It isn't for scrapbooking. No, no, no."

I wanted pretty mini-conspiracy "areas" for my office walls. And I wanted those pretties for 99 cents.


I also bought stickers!