damselfish | (no subject)

I am now well enough to go to work (after getting used to waking up at 8 or 9, getting up slightly before dawn is like pulling Pleistocene megafauna out of a tar pit) and I have come to the realization that I only have two weeks left.

I finally got into a very comfortable groove of science, cruising interior design websites, and writing to the tune of 1.5k+ words a day only to realize that it's coming to an end. I'm still waiting on the seller to say something about the offer I made on the condo-- "they're moving pretty fast for a bank" I'm told by both my realtor and the seller's realtor-- so that project is on hold, and I am thinking of places where I can write at home.

Also contemplating keeping my meds up or not since I have no reason to be on them other than a desire to finish the first draft of Spider Stories before school. This is actually a reachable goal given how much of it I've written already. I can probably go spend a couple hours a day at the local library, since I actually like working in libraries, but those were university libraries and not public. I am such an elitist.

...Man, two weeks. It's really weird to think about it that way.