Irritating.

I have a deadline on Wednesday, so, as might be considered my MO, I've somewhat lost the will to work (have an essay, but can't work out how to make it any better; I finish things far too ahead of time, it's a thing), but have nevertheless essentially checked out of the world. To the point I was on the phone to my mum and seemed to think she would understand if I started talking about my essay (which she had been reading) in terms of two sections before and after the volta... Because, of course, that sort of conceptualisation's visible outside my brain.

Anyway, my checking out last weekend and this Friday/Saturday has essentially resulted in a draft seasonal_spuffy fic - 16,000 words even. ( Just in case you don't want to know... )