My BB is monster that is eating my brain, 60,000 words, a story about a rescued slave--skinwalker Sam, and a clueless Dean and yet--so not full of excitement. It's mild and quiet, and won't fucking end. </endbitch>
Life right now is nothing like I expected it to be. I pretty much have not had a single moment to myself, and at night when I do have quiet, I spend all that time writing. It's not even something I can complain about--"Waa, waa, I have no time to write my porn!" I give all blessings and respect to grandmas that watch their grandkids all day long every day. This is some torture level shit for a person really used to being by themselves for long periods of the day. I hear that bitch in the back of my mind going, "But you knew this before it happened" and I can only say shut the fuck up. And here's the funny thing--when BG goes back to work in September, unless there's a solid vaccine or some good care for folks who are ill, I'm going to keep the kid with me. No daycare for us!
I'll expect a solid wall of prayer from y'all, all day, e'r day, please. :D
I have only kind of half-ass interacted with folks, here and on The Twitter. Someday, someone is going to have to explain to me how that twitting works, with the Re-Tweet and the answering. Some day.
I am not reading the BBs yet. As soon as I have a solid ending for this ugly fic I'm working on, I will treat myself. There are some amazing writers this year. It's a small group, but choice!
I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL I'M DONE!!!