You come crash into me, and I'll come into you.

Today was just twelve shades of wrong. It's been a long week. I'm convinced that we're drugged and they slip extra hours in when we don't notice. I'm not talking good hours, when you're home with your loved ones or watching JC in concert...I'm talking sucky hours when you're at work. That kind of week.

But it's over, and I say hallelujah. Stuff to do, and more stuff and I forget sometimes that people aren't in my head and don't know that my freak-outs are nothing more than a way to keep my head from exploding. I'm not about to jump off a window ledge or slit my wrists. I freak, then I'm fine. I've got to stop doing that.

So! I started a writing notebook of sorts, and I think it will be helpful. I also made a list of the stuff I have in progress - oy - and prioritized what I want to work on in the immediate future. I've got three stories so close to completion that it's not funny. Stuff I've been working on for over a year, maybe longer. What kind of ridiculousness is that?

Aiii, I've finally sampled the pre-sparkly goodness of MMC!JC and MMC!Justin, thanks to scotty's kindness. Christina, with the voice of a grown woman and that teeny little body. Britney, who sounded more like a woman then than she does now. Maybe it's the same voice, but now the packaging fits. ;-)

Many thanks to scotty, who's put up with a lot this week. Wouldn't blame you if you hate me, babe.

I think I need hard, addictive drugs. But I'll settle for red licorice.