we are not lost

Aubrey; also Birdie.
Student and writer. Polyamorous and really gay. Chronically ill.
Local queen of cait sidhe. Powered by caffeine, anxiety, and spite.

Dec. 26th, 2015

mortalcity: Meredith, Izzie, George and Doc the boppy lying under a Christmas tree. (GA | lights will guide you home)
Belated happy winter holiday to those of you who have one. If you can call any of what is happening right now winter? Winter in Florida was never really anything of the sort, but this is so much worse than it used to be ten years ago. Global warming is just the worst.

KM is at their parents' farm for Christmas (probably primarily because they got dinner and presents and Star Wars out of the bargain, which I can't blame them for). I have decided I'm lonely and pretty much done with them being gone, but they refused to drive back down until tomorrow. Rude.

Meanwhile, for two days I've been acting like spoons aren't a thing because I was feeling pretty okay, and I am pretty sure I am just about to crash hard into the wall of "yes you really are disabled you fucking idiot". But I have dishes to do and so much laundry to put away still and I still have to feed myself and the animals until KM gets home tomorrow and ughhhh....

At least writing has been happening. Slowly and never as much as I want, but I am remembering how to put words together in a mostly coherent fashion, and that is reassuring. Sometimes I genuinely think I have forgotten. Finished a fic I've been working on since November, wrote some not-quite-drabbles with characters I missed (I would like to try and get in the habit of daily drabbles), about to tackle some worldbuilding I've been trying to sort out for a while. Yay, me.