It feels like the more I want to write, the less I do. I don't want to get started on something big and then not finish it, but I don't have time to write as much as I want to. So I write very little, or nothing.

I did write a little at work, in a text file... but then forgot to stick it on my flash drive to bring it home. So it's still there.

Tomorrow, C, his wife, and I are supposed to be hanging out with some of the Pittsburgh people we met in MD. We're going shopping (at Purple Passion) and to Paddles. I'm surprisingly bleh about it. Maybe I just need sleep. And warmth, I'm shivering already. (And it's going to be raining tomorrow.)

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Speaking of shopping and fetishes, when I was in high school, my favorite brand of nail polish was Nail Fetish, which later got shortened just to Fetish. They had cool colors. And though I didn't know of any particular fetishes in myself, I liked the suggestion of perversion it implied.

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I think I need a new doctor. I've only seen mine once, really, but I find myself considering going to see her about stuff, and deciding that she'd probably dismiss it the way she dismissed the other stuff I brought up when I went in for a check-up.

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I had another house-hunting dream last night. I don't get those very often, but they tend to be very vivid. (I'm *still* somewhat upset with John about the house in Rochester, which was in a dream months and months ago.) This house wasn't in great condition, and seemed small at first, but we kept finding more and more rooms, and they kept growing. The floors were horrid, the walls dirty, the layout odd but cool. Lots of fireplaces, only one closet in the entire house... but plenty of room to build some.