It's been an odd day. Started off with a software pitch/junket that I normally never get to go, but off I went, mainly because it was at the AGNSW and I needed to go to my happy place. Yes, I dawdled back through my favourite galleries (I got, er, um, lost on the way back). Didn't really network on account of being shagged out after a long squawk, but I did sup my coffee beneath old Walter, and besides, who else would I rather hang with than a middling early British impressionist and possible serial killer? I mean, really.
It actually wasn't that bad, though the coffee was 'orrible, the guy presenting had clearly drunk too much of it (think that Trek ep where Kirk speeds up and vanishes) and the booklet was woeful, but the CMS, oooh, I want. Please.
Once back it was thrash, thrash, thrash with a death of a thousand uploads. Sigh. (And too bad really because I've just finished my second Robin Hood fic, in my head only, alas). Didn't get home till late. Later now. Ack.
Yesterday was the same, but worse. Didn't get home till even later (but my, how I'm getting throuh D&P in the traffic) and I had a choice of struggling online and being all cross, or sinking back with a hot chocolate and wallowing in Sam and Dean. S&D won, natch. And it must have been the hot chocolate, because I really enjoyed it, even though it was a Sam-arc story (and hello to the foreshadowing brother against brother). But when Dean made the sudden gastritis face when the soft rock came on, I laughed and laughed, and, after the day I'd had, I gotta love the boy for that.
After that there was Crichton, which also made me happy.
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