March 13th, 2004

poor me

(no subject)

I'm *not* ashamed of what I choose to write.

I mean, I can sit here and enumerate how *many* ways I'm not ashamed, from the freedom of expression thing to the 'if I'm going to devote time, energy, and fingertime to something, I damn well better get the hell over it' thing, to the fact that glass houses and stones? So very much going on here. I'm in *fandom*. Shame is one of those things that should be removed from our collective dictionary, dammit.

I just wish someone hadn't actually *said* it--not that I was, but that I kind of should be. I'd be a lot happier thinking I didn't have any reason to be. I'd also be a lot happier if I'd snapped at them immediately and not dragged the angst out by just shrugging it off and changing the subject and then pretending that, really, this doesn't bother me at *all*. I'd be writing, not staring at this *stupid* thing, thinking, maybe I *am*, or at least, maybe I should be, which is so silly I won't even dignify myself with an answer.

And since when do I care what anyone says?

Yeah, this is brought to you in a fit of temper, mostly because I'm very tired and Child is somewhat sick, I missed a lot of work this week, and of *all* the things to bother me, this is the silliest.

Christ, this has been a bad month. April has got to be better than this, except the remixes are due and the new job will be in full swing, and why the *hell* did I sign up for that anyway? And why did I want that job?
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