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Day of rest?

Up until all hours being crazy. I woke up at a reasonably reasonable hour, and never quite did get back to sleep, although I napped on and off throughout the day. myrrhianna moved in. There were movers. The cats are in her bedroom now. Ryoga is making these very confused small meeping noises. I talked to Darkside; this was the first he'd heard of Sketchy. He commiserated. He is a lot less tolerant of general dumbassery than I am. I let him know that Lovie had attacked, because I always need to let my best friend know about what happens when I write.

myrrhianna's mother made lasagna. It is tasty.

There was YYH. It was cracktastic.

I am re-reading Cyteen, because it was about time.

myrrhianna has gone to get cat food, and perhaps ice cream.

Frozen York cookies are a viable substitute for the noble Thin Mint. (Chocolate Obsession doesn't agree with me, but they're still tasty.)

I'm writing today off as a nothing-day for me, and then commencing with the usual schedule tomorrow.
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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