::collapses into heap on bed::

So. I finished both papers. Not happy with either one of them, don’t expect wonderful grades this time around ::cringe::, but they are done and in the respective hands of professors.

I finished my ordination bulletin. One tiny mistake (oops) but it’s done, printed, folded and stacked.

There are no small children in my mother’s house. It is quiet. Well, quiet except for mom down stairs snoozing in front of the TV and me up here, obsentisbly trying to sleep off the headache that I’ve had for the last four days, but really…

Okay, so it all started when I went to go give my little nephew his amoxicilin at school. I brought a book. A free reading book that had nothing to do with theology. In fact, it was about dracula. Normally, quite exciting. Promised my sister I would read it over break before NEWTs.

All I could think about was (in the appropriately whiney tone) I don’t waaaanna read about Dracula! I wanna write about Viktor! It’s been days since I wrote about Viktor! I’m tired, I’m cranky, I’m in pain, and all I wanna do is write about Viktor!

This is how I know I’m hooked. I’d rather write than nap. And I really love to nap. It’s so decadent.

So, here I am, loaded up with Ibuprophen, proped up on a pillow as I lie otherwise prone, lisenting to my Firebolt Ring mix on iTunes, and wondering if I wanna catch up with emails and ljs just now or later tonight… And wondering if Viktor has found me, now that I’m not in my room in Virginia.

Viktor! O Vitkor!

::grin:: He’s lurking by the door. This is a good sign…

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