musings on mondays
in which I attempt to ramble about my emotional state of mind, which is usually a horrifying and weird place to be in, unless you know how my mind works, which you probably don’t, because you’re not me/my alter-egos/the characters in my head. but still, you’re interested in picking my brain and seeing what makes me tick. may be password protected/private at times because the universe does not need to know how I feel at all times.
 (free)talk tuesdays
in which I demonstrate that I can and will and maybe shouldn’t talk about any random topic under the sun and under the rocks because sometimes I am not fit to exist and wander around in human society. obviously I was raised by wolves… because that sounds better than merely saying I am awkward like a turtle.
 work woes wednesdays / writings on wednesdays
in which I will depress you with my working life or the fact that it is non-existent at the moment, unless you count torturing small kids/teenagers with english assignments as a proper job. otherwise, I will depress you with the terrible things that I write, and make you want to throw me in front of a train for writing badly and screwing up your worldview/your favourite characters/genre/something.
 things I love thursday
in which I gush excessively over things that I love, because other days I will be too emo and mean to show that I actually have positive emotions to spare *gasp* also, basically what it says on the tin, mate, so yeah.
 frivolous fridays
in which I will post random trivial stuff that will not enrich your life in any manner, but perhaps showcase that I have awful awful taste in things like fashion, music, people, interior design. you name it, I will destroy it.
 scents for saturdays
in which I pretend that I am good at describing smells and slowly work my way through my collection, which is always growing larger and larger because I have a thing for perfumes mainly because they smell good and who doesn’t want to smell like a strawberry shortcake laced with arsenic and vintage chianti and fava beans?
 spirit-working sundays
in which I try and be all mystic and mumbo-jumbo while you non-existent readers roll your eyes and groan at my theatrics and tell me that I am crazy and melodramatic and weird and I should just stop pretending that I am capable of spiritual stuff and stick to mocking myself because that’s where my forte is.