sing out, louise

my life isnt perfect but at least im not doing a mans laundry

disabled people are often in permacrisis

there's never enough money each month. there's always an unexpected illness. new symptoms pop up or old symptoms flare up. meds have to be managed always and refilled constantly and any refill has the opportunity to go wrong. any regular care has the opportunity to go wrong. any mistake can send your health spiralling. it's always "i just need to get through this bad patch" but as soon as one ends another begins. another crisis begins in the middle of the last crisis. managing one thing leaves another thing to be neglected until that becomes a major issue and has to be managed asap and the cycle starts anew over and over and over

thinking today about the once-fandom-standard now-extinct 90k plot-dense fic with one (1) semi-explicit epilogue handjob… oh the land of my youth…. gone but not forgotten….

Reading about an arsenic murder case in which probably a daughter killed her mom with poisoned clam chowder but she was acquitted because the defense were like “can you prove that ANYONE wouldn’t die after eating takeout clam chowder delivered by children in August? In 1896?” and the jury were like no yeah fair point I too have had clam chowder stomach

Sometimes the best fic you’ve ever written isn’t on ao3. It’s in 50 frenetic discord messages sent over a fifteen minute span where you and your friend yes and each other into a perfect story that will never actually be written.