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Thursday is Free Coffee Day at work. The coffee vending machine dispenses coffee happily, and I have to bust a larger percentage than usual of phone goons with open containers of non-water liquids in the interviewing area. This also contributes to my continuing wakefulness at this hour. It's still Thursday, to me.

cadhla's contribution to Rabbit Hole Day was the delightful conceit that those of Irish ancestry sprout wings seasonally. Assorted people contributed their own ethnic background's little magical quirks. Since FatherSir's side of the family is Scotch-Irish, in cadhla's universe, my wings fortunately waited to come out until after the visit from Corporate was over. But the other half of my ancestry, Mama's family, is Finnish. So that meant that I'd have been dealing with more elves than usual.

The thought that the Vikings feared the magic of the Finnish is definitely an interesting one. I wonder if all of Mama's family was Muggle, or if she was a Squib.

To forestall the perhaps-inevitable questions about why not try something with Figment, because there's the potential for a bond there, and he seems very nice, there are a few things in the way that I view as near unto insurmountable.

First, and it would be this way even if everything else were not so, I've put myself under oath to not do anything new, romantically speaking, as in, take on any new partners, or progress relationshipwise further with anyone I have previously been involved with. This doesn't preclude declaration of interest; I may be holding myself to strict oath, but I'm not stupid. I wouldn't have made the oath if I'd thought it was a bad idea to take it, and I did put a hard time limit on it, at which point I will be released of it, and can go ahead and follow up on any prospect where there is still interest.

There's absolutely no guarantee that I'll still have any interest when the term of the oath is over. I form bonds quickly and intensely, but only rarely do they stay intense for particularly long. This is an excellent reason why a waiting period is recommended. I may have to keep this, after the term of the oath is over. I've been liking it. It gives me intense peace of mind, and is much better as a long-term solution to my problems of impulsive and poorly thought-out romantic activity than having any bondmate as a gate-guard to my genitals.

Second, courtship aimed at Figment would be crass at best. Understatement of the year. His wife died in the past few months, under circumstances as sudden as Tien Vorsoisson's death, but without the estrangement and mental abuse to make it a relief. Even Miles wouldn't court Figment for at least a year, if not longer. Not even in secret from him.

Third, and most problematical, is the matter of religion. Figment is Mormon, though he has a sense of humor about it. I am ... not Mormon; in fact, I'm some bizarre variety of eclectic technopagan who's been tapped by (it seems) both Eris and Raven. While we're perfectly suited to be colleagues, anything more serious than that is near-automatically out. It feels as if the universe has intended me another brother, the brothers that my mother put her foot down over. Since I gave Alia her brother back, it makes sense for my universe to give me mine.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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