i'm tired of walking in the rain

in some strange and near-miraculous turn of events, my glasses seem to have broken (they were fine when i put them down to take a shower!). just a little broken (the stem on one side is hanging loose and can't be fixed by tightening any of the screws) but enough to make me crazy (and nauseous). here's hoping they can fix them and i don't have to buy a whole new pair. *grumbles*

the stress is getting to me more than i thought - if only in the fact that i'm more snappish. i should apologize but honestly? i don't want to.

also? the book i just finished has left me rethinking my own stuff, twisting characters to fit here and there. it's sad to think that my writing prime, character-wise at least, was 10 years ago. it seems like i got all my characters out - i can mold them, change them, build whole worlds and plots around them, but creating new ones leaves me (and them) hollow and unfinished. i suppose i should be glad i have such a wealth of characters already established, at least basics-wise.

now if only i had time to write.