hogwarts gone wild

Thing the first:

Here's To the Night We Said Goodbye by themostepotente and ships_harry. [Remus/Sirius, R]

Penny wrote this for me nearly a week ago, and it is absolutely beautiful. Beautiful. It also has art that is so gorgeous that I could not stop staring at it. Could not. Thusly, go forth and read and view. I love it to bits, and you probably will too.

Thing the second:

I'm having difficulty sending emails with attachments. And by difficulty I mean I simply cannot do it. I send them, and gmail tells me they are sent, but they never reach their intended destination. Also, copies of these allegedly sent emails do not appear in my Sent Mail folder, which means I cannot verify that I've sent them to the right address, nor can I prove that sending them was not, in fact, some really just some wild hallucination on my part.

I had this problem with smutty_claus -- for whatever reason, my computer gave merry_smutmas a pass -- and I'm having the same problem now with hpvalensmut. I'm going to deal with it the same way I dealt with smutty_claus, but I'd like to find a solution before my other fic fest deadlines rear their ugly heads, so I don't keep commandeering the computers of my family and friends, armed with a diskette of gay porn and a slightly panicked look in my eye.

Anyone? Bueller?

I love you, Pete Wentz. I love you like a fat kid loves cake. At this very moment, I specifically love you for Bang the Doldrums. I want to think it's your I Broke My Gay-Above-The-Waist Rule for Mikey Way on Warped and All I Got Was a Lousy Invitation for His Wedding (to a Girl) song, but. It also nicely sums up the present state of both my current and unhealthy romantic entanglements.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch: I just read over my hpvalensmut fic, and a fair portion of it doesn't make sense. I mean, it doesn't make sense, even for me. This requires some emergency retcon work, and I don't have time for that, because it's DUE RIGHT NOW OMFG.

I hate you Sirius Black. I hate you like burning.

HELLO, LIFE? I QUIT YOU.

- I'm one third of the way through a fic that should've been finished two days ago. I'm one third of the way through, and I am stuck like a stuck thing. I cannot move forward, I cannot goad the characters into dialogue anywhere near IC, and I'm terrified to backtrack, because yeah. Should've been finished two days ago.

- My mobile bill this month is astronomical. No, really. While I do not recall using it for anything extraordinary, the amount due suggests that I've been phoning outer space. Frequently, and for extended lengths of time.

- I just stopped by work to check on next week's schedule, only to discover that I've been given a closing shift on Christmas Eve. Considering I am the only person on the shop's payroll with child, I am very close to gnawing on the furniture in a fit of rage. Nineteen year-old pothead underachievers living with their parents on all sides, and they schedule me for a closing shift on Christmas Eve.

WAY TO FUCKING PRIORITISE, YOU UTTER FUCKING FUCKWITS.

Assuming I do not murder my manager in his bed quit between now and then, I guess I am bringing my son and my Christmas tree to work with me on Monday. Because, you know, the conversation where I tell my son he's spending Christmas Eve with a babysitter? It's not going to happen.

NO, REALLY. IT ISN'T.