Tempest in a teapot

Since it's traditional...

Let it be known that I've been promoted again, and am now the Assistant Director / Lieutenant.

Hilariously, I'm actually looking at a pay cut, given the position is salary, and that salary is based off a 40 hour work week. My first week as AD, I'll be working 50 hours. And of course since it's salary, no time and a half for overtime or holidays. Yeeeeah.

But it's a job I can do, and do well, and I know I can do right by all the people in my department who honestly need someone in that office (holy shit I have an office) who will protect them from the draconian corporate overlords.

... who are flying in on Tuesday to spend those 50 hours with me in what I can only assume will be a grueling regimen of brainwashing and soul-crushing.

NO, DAMN IT, THIS IS A GOOD THING.

Have reached that point of exhaustion where I might actually cry a little.

The upside is that I leave the house in an hour, on my way to see Senõr Tentacles.

It's worth it.

I came home tonight from work and found that my cat, Shasta, had passed away sometime during the night. He was 18 years old and my movie-watching buddy. No matter where he was in the house, he'd hear the sound of me settling into the recliner in the living room, and he'd be there to curl up in my lap while I watched TV. We had one last movie together last night, watching Uncle Buck.

I'm really going to miss you, Boo. I'm so sorry we couldn't have another 18 years together. Thank you for staying with me even after your brother passed away. You guys be good.

Title: They Speak By Silences
Author: foofaraw
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Angst, Dean/Castiel (implied)
Spoilers: General season five, with nothing explicit past 5x03
Warnings: Main character death
Word Count: 1300~
Summary: As long as Castiel lives, so will this memory of Dean.
Dedication:This is for architeuthis.*


He doesn't know if he should tell them he has seen Dean, knows where he is, how he fares. Dean was the only one Castiel ever explained his fate to, and Castiel is certain Dean never shared it with them. It is a protection very like Dean, the best and the worst of Dean. Castiel will not be the one to undo that.


( They Speak By Silences )

So I woke up with the fucking flu on Monday. Yes, the fucking flu. (I refuse to have the swine flu; if I'm going to go with a bestial variant, I'ma gonna rock the bird flu, old school style.)

Anyway, I've been fighting it best I can, trying my hardest not to let the congestion get into my lungs again, and then today. TODAY. Around 1700 the skies opened and the wrath of God and all his angels rained down upon us. By 1730 the entire property (and much of the city) had flooded, thanks to the rainstorm hitting on the heels of the windstorm that covered the city in autumn leaves, which meant every fucking storm drain in the city was clogged.

For three hours I was outside with my officers and the police standing in thigh-deep water (in our class A uniforms) helping push cars out of the impromptu lakes and finding storm drains to clear them. By hand. Three hours. After which we continued to patrol, soaking wet to our thighs, for another three hours.

Would you care to guess at the status of a) my fever, and b) my lungs?

(On the plus, three girls and two cops offered to take me out for beers. Except I'm too sick for beers.)



I cleared the fuck out of those drains, though.

There isn't anyone in the world awake at this hour to pat my hand and tell me it's okay, all spiders fear my terrible wrath and will retreat to the far ends of the earth where they will live each day hoping it is not the day I deal out punishment for their transgressions.

Checked wikipedia in a bid to assure myself I could have been imagining things, surely they don't live here.

Wikipedia is cruel and heartless and can die in a fire.

Considered calling in tomorrow due to spider related trauma.

... my boyfriend wrote me get-well-soon porn.

I win at so many things, on so many levels, I can't even tell you.

I never fail to be amazed at the lengths some people will go to in order to avoid saying, "You're right, I was being an asshole. I'm sorry." - edgyspice on unfunnybusiness at journalfen.

Truer words, you guys.

So, I'm actually writing for the first time in well over a year? December '07 was the last time I posted a finished story, it looks like, and I know I haven't really written anything since then, not counting posting in RP threads, which for me is an entirely different process.

I have three stories on the burner.

One is a background story for my WoW character, Jenriáth, also featuring Adorján (Jenny's best friend, played by Squid) and Omasvara (Jenny's lorking mentor, played by Meej). Incidentally, I'm playing WoW for the first time since this last December, and finally Getting It.

The second is a mixed-medium fic for my Silvermoon character Leonel (the absurd mixture of Rahm Emanuel and House... in SPACE) and his BFF Mordecai (again, Squid's), also featuring Delilah (played by Nomes) and a young Serenity (Cilde's) which I am stupidly excited about.

Both of these are only of interest to a very tiny group of people, which is usually a huge roadblock for me, but these particular people are crazy enthusiastic and encouraging, which makes all the difference.

The third, and the one I've actually done the most work on, is a post-finale Supernatural piece. It's Dean/Castiel, because that pairing has seriously become my OTP like no other. Last night I actually wrote 800 words of what Squid calls an exploding outline, if that means anything to you, but it made me insanely happy because I've never been able to do outlines for stories before. Tonight I'm already at 800 1100 words of actual story, so I pretty much win.

I haven't been able to write more or less since I started working here, and it's crazy awesome to get back into it, and to have friends who are genuinely excited about it. I'm made of happy.