This postI’ll probably regret posting this, but what the heck. I realized yesterday that whenever I make initial contact with a girl I find rather attractive, I’m immediately scared to death of her. It’s uncanny. And it kind of kills any hope of flirting. ;) (As for why I’m scared of these attractive girls, I’m almost certain it’s the cursed overanalysis. “I’m attracted,” I think, and then my brain starts reeling with the possibilities, and I freeze and my throat closes up and the stampede of lead-booted butterflies careens around my stomach and I try desperately not to make an irredeemable fool of myself.)
Which is kind of what I’m doing now, come to think of it. I shouldn’t blog when I’m this tired. But I’ve committed to NaBloPoMo, so here I am. (As for NaNoWriMo, it’s coming along smashingly well. I’m at 7,561 words so far, with another 1,000 to write today. And the story isn’t nearly as lame as I’d feared it might be.)
And now I go to take a nap so I can write those thousand words without collapsing at my desk. (I gave blood earlier, which I think is part of the reason why I’m so exhausted.)
You know, considering my indulgent use of parentheses, you’d think I’d grown up reading The Princess Bride or something. And yet I’m only reading it just now. So there’ll probably be more parentheses.
