I've been doing visitor prep stuff all day, cleaning and laundry, and was despairing of getting any writing done. Then I saw one of those "stop what you're doing and write now!" posts and scribbled out 671 words of a scene in my Chekov/McCoy ST fic I've been avoiding so. *\o/*
I'm making sangria to chill in anticipation of my sister arriving tomorrow afternoon (Miss C will get limeade with soda water and a splash of raspberry syrup so she won't feel left out of the fun beverage-ness). After dosing the fruity Italian wine with the traditional brandy/sliced & squeezed oranges and limes and a teensy bit of sugar, I decided to toss in a bunch of dark cherries that I pitted and halved as well. Oh my glob, it smells amazing.
I spent part of last night looking up all the references to apocalypse scattered in episodes of Adventure Time and made myself all mope-y.
Then this afternoon totally succumbed to napping and had a dream I committed the perfect crime (murrrrrderrrrr, for those of you curious). One of the points on my master plan to cover my trail was to donate a bunch of money to a local Girl Scout troop. Now I feel like I should donate to a local troop for real in penance for my sleep-murrrrrderous thoughts.
I don't know where the hell I was when I heard this song, but "Sweet Talkin' Guy" has been whirling around my head almost nonstop the last day.
What's going on with you all this weekend?