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When fics run wild... and husbands tick you off...
Ok, it's not the first time it's happened, but right now it annoys me. You know when you're writing a longer fic and somewhere along the way, the story just goes somewhere completely different from what you originally planned? Well my kodd (Nightcrawler/Toad for the un-iniciated)fic has done just that. Normally I simply adjust my plot accordingly, but here I had this perfect vision of an end scene, which will now never ever fit. *sigh* Maybe I could write the end scene as a sort of post script or one-shot...
And on a completely unrelated - but just as annoying - topic: Why is it that hubby always picks the absolutely worst times to talk to me? I sit for 3 hours just gaming or surfing without a word being heard. But the SECOND I dare to start typing something (fic, comment, notes, links, search words - anything!) it's like it's a cue for him to start talking! Now, not everything I type demands my full attention, but was it really a matter of life and death to interrupt my finally progessing fic-writing to tell me that this-or-this-on-failblog is hilarious?! Or start reading me this day's funny column in the newspaper? Not that I don't wanna hear it, but damn, we already have an agreement about asking before just showing/telling/reading aloud if the other is in the middle of something. Too bad hubby has selective memory.
Just even more too bad for him that I have serious mood-swings. Next time he does that, I dare not answer for the consequenses!
[Warning! Preggie Monster is currently violently flammable/poisonous/hazardous! Please wear protective head gear and keep minimum safety distance of 300 meters.]
And on a completely unrelated - but just as annoying - topic: Why is it that hubby always picks the absolutely worst times to talk to me? I sit for 3 hours just gaming or surfing without a word being heard. But the SECOND I dare to start typing something (fic, comment, notes, links, search words - anything!) it's like it's a cue for him to start talking! Now, not everything I type demands my full attention, but was it really a matter of life and death to interrupt my finally progessing fic-writing to tell me that this-or-this-on-failblog is hilarious?! Or start reading me this day's funny column in the newspaper? Not that I don't wanna hear it, but damn, we already have an agreement about asking before just showing/telling/reading aloud if the other is in the middle of something. Too bad hubby has selective memory.
Just even more too bad for him that I have serious mood-swings. Next time he does that, I dare not answer for the consequenses!
[Warning! Preggie Monster is currently violently flammable/poisonous/hazardous! Please wear protective head gear and keep minimum safety distance of 300 meters.]
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