I had this dream this morning that I lost my big silver ring, stamped with the words, “Infinite Potential.” I retraced my steps, and a man cleaning a kitchen told me not to give up, and right when I did, found it in the sink. No need to contact Dr. Freud on this one.
Wonderful friend asked me last night about finding a proper guild last night. I’m not sure what he is looking for, but I know he enjoys raiding and was always a cracker-jack, dependable, and intelligent player. I told him about the only two I was really familiar with – Hawtpocket’s The Rubber Ducky Society, and of course, mine, the Drunken Fish. In any case, it does take time to find a good fit for a guild, and often when you do, the dynamics change and can leave a player distraught or thrilled.
I also have a big problem: tomorrow a ready-to-publish piece of writing is due for my writing class, and I have diddly-squat. I think I may cheat and review a Mrs. Whitworth story, and I have many story starters in mind, but nothing seems cogent. Today is jam-packed from morning till evening, so not sure when I planned on getting this done. I can’t write at work –unless I bring my own laptop, potentially everything I create on my work laptop could belong to my workplace, and I can’t have that. Write by hand, you say? Sure, I suppose I could do that. And then frantically type away after I meet a friend for wine and appetizers, give CD Rogue a kiss hello (he was on a business trip yesterday, and I haven’t been able to say hello yet), and help the Matty-shack ready for the weekend… Sounds like a job for Mrs. Whitworth! TO THE CANON PRINTER!
No wonder why I dreamed of lost things. But they were found, fortunately.
So my Old Ladies: if you are around on Sunday I would love to try to get some things together, or last Saturday afternoon. I should be home around 4 or 5, which may be too late for us on Saturday. We still need dragons, people. Dragon ponies all ’round!
Postscript: What the hell did the Blizzard artists do to Sylvanas and Varian? Erg…