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Okay. I'm calmer now. Painkillers are goood. I'm... actually hot. I'm rolling up my sleeves and my trouser legs. My hands are sweating as I type this. Maybe part of it is the cold (the disease, not temp). It probably is. Still, It's 60s outside. Why must I be sick at such a gorgeous time like this?
Meanwhile, I still haven't done any of the humongous heap of reading I have to do and I haven't written anything since two days ago. But I am having smutty thoughts. That's something.
I have a question. If I posted a smutty (or non-smutty) piece from the novel I'm working on, would any of you read it? Just curious.
Meanwhile, I still haven't done any of the humongous heap of reading I have to do and I haven't written anything since two days ago. But I am having smutty thoughts. That's something.
I have a question. If I posted a smutty (or non-smutty) piece from the novel I'm working on, would any of you read it? Just curious.
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I'll read it when I'm done with my thesis (which SHALL NE THIS WEEKEEEEEEENNNNDDDD!!!!)
Smut is fine. Non smut is too.
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