Owie.

Shoveled snow; hands hurt badly for a while afterwards. Wibbled while shoveling; head-wrote wibbly entry about the nature of this journal and my posting smut in it; promptly forgot about it. Mooched about; mooched about some more; got yelled at by mother; played piano; hands hurt some more. Typed in part of LoS 2 that I wrote on the train; started to poke at the holes in major scene; abruptly had abdominal pain. My digestive system is conspiring against me.

Currently curled up in blanket wibbling gently.

Considering getting Impossible betaed by somebody and putting it up on RS.org, since everybody seemed to like it way more than I thought they would. *glomps the everybody*

*returns to staring blankly at LoS*

LJ's clock is really messed up. Just thought I'd contibute further to the conversation.