hellooooo Cleveland!

I donated platelets for the first time yesterday. It was uncomfortable, but not so much I didn't keep dozing off while in the chair. This was of mild concern to the nurses, apparently losing consciousness while hooked up to The Machine That Goes Ping[1] is usually associated with bad things. I was just tired.

The anti-coagulant makes me pee like holy crap.

I've been writing again, pumping out words in little bursts between work, errands, appointments, dishes, socializing, sleep. My goal is to get everything down until the end of the wifebeater years, and then start into Nanowrimo with a fresh project. I'm censoring more now, but some of it will still end up on crazy_boat by the time I'm done.

Writing for me means not-reading. It's just as well, I was feeling like reading about other peoples' lives had turned into a way to avoid living my own. Bugger that, I have things I want to do.

So how you?

[1] It really did!