Want my pillow, and my couch

M. has learned the next four measures of Freebird. Deities of all sorts be praised. Because it's my guitar and I really wasn't looking forward to seeing how far down his throat it'd go.

So very tired - like a narcoleptic cat (although if that isn't redundancy in action, I don't know what is). Last week's flu/plague/cold/whatever just ate my reserves and I'm utterly exhuasted at being awake and functioning for an entire workday. Of course, I'm doing several people's jobs right now, so that doesn't help.

And in the week and a half of fannish input and druglike hallucinations, I lost the ability to get started. I have several writing projects impatiently waiting for me, but I don't know how to go back to them, so please, please, give me a challenge: a line, a sentence, a set of requests( I saw this on sdraeven's LJ I think), something to jump start my brain into output mode. I can't promise I'll answer 'em all, but I promise to choose at least one or two!

And, also, for those playing along at home who are good at keeping track of such things, does anyone have a link to where rubberneck posted her commentaries on parts of Little Acorns?