Since I posted a single word to FimFic...

A lot has happened IRL - lots of bad, some good, mostly just work work work work work and more work. Precious little energy left for amusing myself (and maybe you) with stories about wee hosses. Things have settled down a bit and I have been feeling inspired about one of the stories I've had several bashes at but never felt was quite ready to be published. Maybe I'll have another go.

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...still not writing.

Hi. I still exist. I still intend to continue writing these silly pone fics. I'm just not sure when that's going to happen.

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Being antisocial has its advantages during days like these.

I'm still working from home. My employer has begun plans to have some staff return to the office in September, but it's voluntary. So I've happily volunteered to never, ever, ever return to the office - unless I absolutely have to. I do kind of miss downtown and my cow-orkers, but 3 hours a day wasted sitting in traffic...? F*ck that!

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If you're annoyed that an author/artist/composer/etc. seems to have abandoned a story/comic/album that you enjoy, just send them a note asking if they're planning to return to it soon.

Moaning comments and passive-aggressive tantrums are unkind and counter productive.

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My employers have asked me, and everyone else in the marketing department, to work from home for the next three weeks.

On one hand: YAY! No wasting two hours of my life every day commuting.

On the other: Boo! This will make writing ponefic even more difficult.

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Oh, P.K...

Why...?

Why do you have such a bouncy trot?

My poor ass bones!

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I went to a convention for a show which is literally about the magic of friendship, and managed to avoid making any.

GOOD

• Driving through the forest-y hills of Pennsylvania.

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Yesterday I woke early and went down to the parking garage to clear out my car's boot for the loooong drive down to Baltimore. Only to find my iQ's plastic ass hanging off. WTF? I'd just driven it home after visiting friends over the weekend and it seemed fine. Luckily, nothing was broken and it wasn't difficult to snap it all back into place like a gigantic toy car. But while I was working on that I discovered that my driver-side rear shock was busted and oozing oil. I'd noticed a wet

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pastrigret
VERB [TRANSITIVE] /ˈpeɪstrɪˈɡret/
Worrying about carbs while eating a whole box of fruit pastries. Feeling grateful when they're finally gone! Then, half an hour later, making tea and wishing you had a lovely fruit pastry to go with it.

...and writing. I just have nothing to publish yet.

I've thrown down a few ideas for a sequel to The Woman, but nothing that really excites me.

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