Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen
mrissa

Sniffle crunch sigh

I do not have a cold.

Convenient, isn't it? Not having a cold. I shall continue for the foreseeable future, not having a cold. Not, not, not, not. No colds here! Would not dream of having a cold! (I wouldn't, actually. My dreams last night seem to have been written by L. Frank Baum, which is its own kind of disturbing but not, you perceive, like a cold in very many ways.)

Sigh. Well, I guess I can keep snarfing cranberries a few days longer. (Cranberries are very scary to germs, you know.)

Also my shoulder is crunchy. I shrug my right shoulder, and it shrugs. I shrug my left shoulder, and it sounds like an elderly car changing gears. It's time for me to go back to the man who sounds like alecaustin or one of his cohorts to get it fixed up again. The shoulder is clearly healing. It's just not healed.

I'm waiting for a call that says my parents' closing went through and they own a house in Apple Valley. The closing was set for 45 minutes ago. I've never actually done one in person, despite our owning this house: we signed the papers remotely and had people here to do it for us, because markgritter wasn't going to be able to be here anyway (he was still working in California when timprov and I had CJ help us drive back -- timprov was still able to drive then, as he may be again someday), so we had to pay a notary in California and FedEx the papers and so on. So I'm not sure how long this should take, if everything is going well.

I finished up the short story revisions earlier, and now I'm poking The Mark of the Sea Serpent and hoping for the best. The notecard that says, "How do they find out about the sneaky dead?" is still staring up at me. I can't put the sneaky dead in with the niflnissen. I can't put it in with Ull and his ring. (I have avoided making Ull look like a California surfer Norse god. This may come with the price of some unintended Buddha associations. I am told that one can't have everything, and when one is trying to send a large blond god over the sea on a piece of bone, this is certainly true, regardless of its general applicability.) I hope the sneaky dead aren't going to be sneaky with me. I'm not one of the Aesir; I don't deserve it.
Tags: dead vikings are lots of fun, family, revising, shoulders like nixon, sick and wrong
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