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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

Wow, It's Only 9 O'Clock!

The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels

bread and puppet




"About as much fun as a bag of weasels"...when I first saw this Irish adage, it made me think of the life of a writer: sometimes perilous, sometimes painful, certainly interesting. My paper journal has always been called "The Bag of Weasels." This is the Bag of Weasels' online home.

Wow, It's Only 9 O'Clock!

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bread and puppet
I feel like it is much later. I looked at the clock and thought it'd be like 10 o'clock or something. I'm glad it's not; I have the morning to myself in the office and could really get something productive done. Of course, part of it is the fact that I've been working non-stop almost since coming in, mostly on Mr. Vernon's damned credit card bill. I don't mind doing it; in fact, I rather like organizing scads of unorganized information and presenting it in a pleasing fashion. (I am a sick woman.) What irritates me is that none of the other units will do their bloody part by sending me their invoices and so every month is like a big, putrid rotten Easter egg hunt for f***ing invoices. Argh!

On a better note, my wrist/arm doesn't hurt today, and I am less tired. I slept like a dead person last night. I didn't even hear Bobby get up until he came in to say goodbye to me. My legs are sore but that's because--since I so wisely volunteered to do a split in the exhibition--I need to get myself back into shape flexibility-wise. I needed to do that anyway, so this is a good excuse. I used to have the world's most beautiful spirals, but alas, aging took hold and my foot doesn't naturally go over my head anymore.

(There is some crap going on at the elementary school across the street: Some people running down Rte-175 or something. Anyway, they keep screaming, "Hooray! Hooray! HOORAY!" It is distracting and [I must admit, I'm evil] a little annoying.)

Anyway, what was I talking about? Ah, yes, flexibility. I used to be sickeningly flexible. I mean, split three ways, spiral with my foot pointing straight up from the ground flexible. I remember learning to split in the summer before seventh grade by making an agreement with my cousin that if she would learn to skate backward then I would learn to split. In one week. (Ouch!) Yes, it hurt like hell; I would stretch until it was painful to walk, which probably wasn't good, in retrospect, but I was young and naturally plastic, so I doubt any lasting damage came as a result. I have remained flexible since but find that every passing year over these past twelve years it gets a bit more effortful to maintain. I'd really like to start a stretching routine: It feels so good and it's hella impressive for an old lady like me to be able to hold her foot over her head. (Yes, twenty-three is technically over-the-hill: Humans reach their physical primes at about twenty-one. How's that for depressing news?) Plus, it makes skating easier and lessens the chance of injuries, which is always a good thing.

Oh, good news: I am finished my Silver Helms. Well, except for their swords and shields, but I'm painting them separately, then gluing them on. Now I am working on my Dragon Princes. And painting my archers. Sigh...why did I ever get into this hobby?

Yesterday, I achieved decent productivity, especially considering that I had to do real work until about noon or so. But I've finally started the online RPG for my D&D campaign. Hopefully, I can finish it today. (It is all written and just requires cutting, pasting, and bit of tweaking.) But I also want to write and work on SWG stuff (because I'm hoping to finally start that soon, after D&D gets rolling), so only time will tell.
Undecidedly yours,
Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

Later, much later.... (3:15 PM)
I just needed to comment on two mildly upsetting things from today.

First of all: Kathy. Kathy revealed her nosiness to me in new and disturbing ways to me today. First, let me qualify that Kathy is a favorite co-worker and friend. She is overbearing, but such is her manner. I have dealt with much worse. Anyway, today, Kathy called me to tell me that one of the transports that our Western Maryland team did was a mistake; that they shouldn't have done it because it was an escape retake and not a parole retake warrant. I had already realized this (yesterday), given the file to Johnny, and he took care of it.

Now what this means is that while Kathy was in the office last night, dropping off paperwork (after the office was closed, but we all have keys), she went through the files on my desk. Now, the files aren't personal in any way, but why? Why the need to go through them? All they are is old arrests and recalls and such that I have to put away downstairs. At the same time, it bugs me because I do keep a lot of personal writing at the office, and while all of it is clearly labeled with deterrents, I never thought that any of it was really at risk to be read before. Now I have to wonder.

The second disturbing thing: I was doing my regular reading on fanfiction.net this afternoon, on which I have been very behind, since I am overly busy with other things. Not that it has mattered; a whole lot hasn't been posted lately. But this one girl had written this utterly atrocious story. I sensed that she was young and unfamiliar with the community. It had all kinds of out-of-canon (blatant too!) bits and even a litany of Mary Sue names like Roxanne and Guenevere. Not kidding. But the reviews she got were merciless! I felt really bad and ended up giving her an encouraging review with some of my own suggestions on how to improve. It amazes me how mean people can be to others when there is a computer screen between them.

Okay, the 'gund just got sent home early, so I remain disturbedly yours,
Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

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