Cuddled up in bed in the middle of the afternoon with my jammies, a cuppa tea, and allll the work that's due tomorrow.
I dropped Latin, if there's anyone left in the universe that hasn't
yet heard. Oh frabjus day, calloo, callay, etc. Except it sort of
isn't. I did enjoy Latin well enough (especially when it was going
well), but it took so many hours to get everything straight in my head.
My other classes suffered, and forget about any extra reading or
writing.
So my minor is a dream of the past now, but it's okay. I've started
writing again. I've got a short story about Edinburgh I wouldn't mind
posting an excerpt to sometime (after I've gone through another draft or
two). I've also thrown myself into rewriting another short story, this
one fantasy. It's an odd mix of Rumplestiltskin and a Grimm tale and a Greek myth and I love it. Finding the proper ending is painful, but it's a good kind of painful.
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