iambic pentameter

[themeletor]

ever hate yourself just a little too much to crawl out of your chair and go get soup?

that's where I'm at right now. and I don't really know why, so that's weird.


I'm feeling just a little too cold, a little too sick, a little too hungry and a little to tired to do anything about any of them. and my brain's a little too busy meandering to actually give me fic to write.

I'm considering... going to the pub, getting takeout, bringing it back here and eating it at my desk while I watch TAS. which is something I had been saving for a night when I didn't have a prospie, but... she says she'll be out until late.

her stink-spray is giving me a headache.
our dorm smelled just faintly of Marie's rafting gear and my earl grey up 'til now, mingled with FUCKING COLD fresh air, and I liked that. I did. now it smells like... girl. girly-girl. pink, preppy, flirty, fitted-sweater, pop-culture-and-chunky-high-heels, flowery fruity girl. Victoria's Secret something. gah.


hello, my name is meletor and I am an unrepentant crabby bitch...

Comments

[tiggothy.livejournal.com]

*pours out a glass off rum and leaves it in your room with a stick of cinnamon next to it*

...so that your room will smell of Captain Jack Sparrow instead ;-)

[ima-pseudonym.livejournal.com]

*crinkles nose in distaste* Too much perfume always makes me nauseous.

I hope you're feeling better, now? (I'm always on so late.. you could be the tapdancing picture of health for all I know.)