That time of year.

Specifically, it seems, that time of year when I start getting very unhappy about stuff. I realize it's been more or less a constant thread for a while (this is okay--unfucking one's habitat is a process, and I am making progress), but it feels more acute now than it did, say, a few weeks ago.

*cue the "oh my god, books, why do I have so many books, argh argh argh flail" screed. Am sure many of you can fill it in from context and past experience*

I am coming to think that one of the absolute best things about Farthing party was the lack of a dealer's room.

I'm trying to catch up, and clean up (which is interesting with the occasional dermatographia flare-up, I will just say), and carry on. Please be patient.