It's Always Repeating Itself

I've answered all my LJ comments, which means H's most recent e-mail has floated towards the top of my Gmail again, which dredges up pretty much everything I don't want to think about. And when my awesome paper lantern arrives so I can get excited and fix up some kind of workspace (and Get Serious About Writing Shit, I guess), I'll delete the order confirmation and shipping e-mails, so then it'll be at the top of my e-mail. Plz feel free to spam the hell out of me. (I am a dilatory correspondent at best, especially if I know LJ is among the fastest ways to get ahold of you, so I don't really want to promise that I'll write back, but I'll make a manful stab at it.)

Also, I have put Rashomon at the top of my Netflix queue because the two stages of grief are Samurai Movies and Acceptance. I like my model of the stages of grief better, anyway. Though "grief" may not be an appropriate word, since it's not like H died or anything.

I am trying not to have any panic in re: omg what if the Provera doesn't work, but since I think I felt the beginnings of cramps today, that's probably an unfounded fear. I am not looking forward to this, y'all.

For Scoring Purposes, It Is Still The Ninth

Jaysus, I've got egg on my face, since I was thinking earlier, "Must remember to post."

Happy belated birthday, driley1!