five? five things make a post? is that it?

1) I feel like Illya trying to make a souffle when I try to write fluff. I put a ridiculous amount of agony into it and then it just ... collapses in on itself. (Dear My Brain: It's Torchwood. Trust me, they want to take their clothes off.)

2) I had a dream this morning which involved reading a romance novel by Stephen King, and getting to the point where everything went horribly, creepifyingly wrong (oh my god, it was illustrated), and even as I was being horrified and creeped out I was thinking to myself why do you keep reading Stephen King's romance novels? He's Stephen King. You know this will happen. And then I was thinking but, romance novels!

It is possible my subconscious is trying to tell me something about my fic-reading choices and the (un)wisdom thereof.

3) DEAR BANDOM, RE: MY CHEM'S BLOG AND PANIC'S STUPID FACES AND FOB BEING THEIR DAMN SELVES AND ALSO YOU ARE FULL OF FIC WHICH, TO PUT IT MILDLY, DOES NOT SUCK: I DIDN'T MEAN WHAT I SAID. CAN I COME HOME NOW?

4) Today I figured out a tiny but crucial logistical detail for a story I stopped writing nine months ago. Yay?

5) I am now about five minutes away from finding out whether I have in fact succeeded in totally fucking up brownies-from-a-box. /o\