Working, working--but close.
But no joy in life.
Still staring emptily
at empty hands
The cure for being earwormed by sea shanties is to be earwormed by Renaissance dance music, especially the ones with what I think (vague memories…
Somewhere on ao3 is fanfic for Kipling's poem Tomlinson, in the same metre and rhyming scheme, which involves Satan/ St. Peter slash. Sorry,…
One oddity of this round of weight loss is that my feet have shrunk. Right foot sloshes about in its boot, birks fall off even with socks. I keep…