I've added Scrivener back to my Dock; that's enough of a good-faith effort for NaNoWriMo, right? I'm done, right?

Tiens, c'est vrai que NaNoWriMo tomberait presque bien dans mon emploi du temps.

I want to rearrange my furniture. Holding back because what I really want is a larger place (with more furniture).

I miss having a MacBook. I miss having disposable income. I miss being a millionaire. Why do I have to wake up from my dreams?

The sad part is, my heart hasn't dried out. It's just my brain that gets in the way.

I guess I could look to find the correlation between foul mood and my urge to punch random passersby in the face.