(no subject)

I swam 25 laps today! Which was 50 minutes of swimming, not counting occasional pauses to mess with my cheap awful snorkel set. It is very hard for me to get out of the pool, even though I know I have to go again tomorrow (because it's only weekends and early mornings that they have all the lap lanes open so I have to go both days I can) and if I push myself too hard I won't be able to move tomorrow. But everything is very easy when I'm in the water, and I get to feel good about myself for being there and doing a proper responsible grownup self-care thing, and the longer I swim the better about myself I'm allowed to feel even though once I get out I have to remember that I remain jobless and I live in squalor in my parents' house and I can't write or vid or even read anymore and I'm terrible with money and even worse with people and supremely lazy and certain to die alone.

That's all very far away when I'm underwater, though. If I had a more comfortable, more functional snorkel and better earplugs, and if they had more accessible hours on weekdays, I would probably do nothing else ever and develop gigantic disproportionate shoulders. And a knee injury, because I know I'm not kicking right but I don't know how to fix it. Am I the only person in the world who could hurt her joints by doing the most low-impact exercise in existence? It would seem that the answer is yes.

In slightly less self-hating news, I did part of a science museum presentation yesterday to a group of very, very tiny children--the first group were two-year-olds, the second three and four--and I was great at it. Talking to them on their level and getting them engaged came totally naturally to me. Talking to the other volunteers, not so much--I think I did okay (although at one point I did something awkwardly terrible that I can only hope wasn't as significant as it feels), but it was work and I had to be careful and plan every moment.

Okay, I think that's enough cognitive distortion for one entry. (Yes, I always know when I'm doing it; no, that doesn't help.) I have to go clean my filthy filthy kitchen, so that I can eat, so that I can keep from spiraling into a low-blood-sugar-induced activated depression all night.

(no subject)

From an e-mail I just sent to unlovablehands while chatting about our unpopular Teen Wolf OT3:

"I have just given myself an incurable desire for a matriarchal polygamy AU where Allison and Lydia are married and they both bring home boys to be their brother-husbands, but then find themselves not just appropriately fond the way you're supposed to be of your men but actually in love with them. And meanwhile Scott and Stiles are falling in forbidden brother-husband love. And then foursome. There can even still be werewolves, that's cool with me."

Tell me that's not the greatest idea ever. YOU CAN'T BECAUSE IT IS.

edit to avoid making a fifth post in a single day--I just wrote a line I am very proud of, more proud than I am of any of the lines in my Very Serious WIP of All the Feelings, and it is this: "There was no way he was walking out of here without touching a dick."

This is what happens when you write things you don't ship because lulz and spite, guys. So...let's all do that some more? I guess?