I am a thousand tiny ponies operating a mobile human suit for giggles.
I was starting work on plans to rebuild Scootamom. I had plans to do more writing. I had so many plans. All gone, now. Like tears in the rain. We're all already dead, and... I'm just so very tired, and done. Got nothing left. I'm sorry. I need to focus on surviving now in a very terrible world. I-
Somewhere out there on the distant horizon of the pony fandom, a little dot has appeared, heading this way. And, coming from that dot is the unmistakable sound of death-metal cello-dubstep.
Okay, with a new schedule and update pattern, we can roughly look for a 6000-8000 word chapter every two weeks at present, between the current course-load, Mad Max (the game), and the arrangement of my schedule. Maybe. I hope.
Okay, here's a proper idea based off of this episode:
So, yeah, this just happened. This just totally happened, and I am completely okay with that.
What you shall see now is a Cellostomp of awesome proportions.
So, it's done. It's ready. I now have buffer between Sick-a-loo and the weekly deadlines.
*insert 
Here.*
Also, a bit of a change for a fun character. Because the night enjoys change.
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Eh. Luna with a short cut don't work for me. The universe is constantly expanding, and so to should her mane.
Still, hooray for buffers.
2762424
What, are you saying that her waistline is constantly expanding like her sister's when encountering sweetened food?
2762433
Nah, it's mostly getting lost in the empty space, unlike all the extra fuel that's finding its way into somepony's fusion reactor.