a lot of boring rambling, just like a real paper journal!

[cimorene]

so it's possible that not getting much sleep last night has affected me today. i'm feeling too fuzzy-brained to finish a complete thought, let alone add a complete sentence to the meantime fic. like for instance, i keep coming back to , the one that's at the top of my list, that is. i started it in 2002, but i didn't get anything usable that time. i realised after about 80 pages that i'd been going about it the wrong way and probably wasn't ready to write a complete novel yet anyway. it's science fiction, and it's recently occurred to me that i feel much more comfortable with fantasy, so my fuzzy angst this morning is taking the form of wondering if i'll ever get it written, if i shouldn't write fantasy instead, if i wouldn't prefer to, except the universe and the story are both pretty detailed, and pretty definite, and pretty decidedly sf. and there are two other less fleshed-out stories in the universe, too. and all this fuzzy angst is really weird, because as far as i'm aware i'm not planning to work on it soon. also, swedish!teacher

... she decided to start class after lunch a few minutes early while i was still in the middle of texting a reply to wax, which i was trying to do before she went into a movie. i kept pausing to turn pages over so i could follow (although they'd barely started going over a worksheet, which we always do with agonising slowness). as a result i kept hitting the wrong key and hadn't finished five minutes later, and then she stops in the middle of a sentence to ask me to put aside my "plaything". (on hearing my name, i automatically gave the correct answer to the question the chinese girl had answered wrong for the third time, so she repeated, "don't play now.") like, bitch, it's not a GAMEBOY, it's a PHONE. i guess in the future i'll get up and leave the classroom and use it in the hall, but i probably won't have the chance, because unlike EVERYONE else in the class, i hardly ever even *touch* it and i even apologised to her the day it rang. on top of this, i could have missed over half of today's class without missing anything. she's alternating lamenting the fact that people (not me or chinese boy, but everyone else) are skipping far more classes lately, and filling whole periods up with, for instance, interesting facts about authors, holidays, and, in today's case, half an hour's worth of films about iceland. you know, i do dig iceland. and iceland is less torturous than going over a worksheet as a class. but iceland isn't swedish and i could read about it in my pajamas with the dog on my feet. pissed enough to skip tomorrow if the swedish-teaching students from the teacher's school weren't coming to practise on us, because they just don't deserve that. the class is already small enough.

and don't you hate when your brain switches fannish enthusiasms so fast that whatever you were still in the middle of becomes like a block in the way of

... i guess if you write multiple things at once habitually, or habitually abandon things unfinished, no big deal, but that's not something my particular brand of compulsivity will let me get away with. the more enthusiastic i get about csi:ny and king arthur/dark is rising thoughts the harder it gets to finish this meantime story and the Method fic and these two bunnies that have been committed to paper and are now bound to be finished in the near future. so basically, in summary, today is the kind of day i need two episodes of csi to get over, but i probably won't have the energy for even one after my homework.