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Apr. 6th, 2005 01:30 pm
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I hate calling in sick. For one thing, if I do eventually feel better, I can't go anywhere. My work is within three blocks of my apartment complex, and if I were to be seen up and about, well... A temp's life can be a brutally short one (even after nearly seven months of dedication and hard work). This morning I was all blargh, now I'm doing better. So I'm trapped (well, I could go into work, but I always feel weird about that).

Tried working on my Angel ficathon story, but it's not coming together. My problem is that if I want to stay in canon, I have exactly one period of time I can place the story in, and I just don't have any exciting ideas for that time. I was basically writing reams of dialogue with no place to go with it. I hate that.

Have some films to review. Screeners are the bane of my existence, because I'm expected to review them with in a certain amount of time and (unspoken) expected to like them. I always feel guilty trashing a free movie, so I always hope that it's really good. I fear I err on the side of not pissing off the marketing people, which is not cool (and they honestly don't care).

Watched Love Actually this morning. Oh, how I love that movie. Richard Curtis writes fabulous, very English romantic comedies. They get me every single time. It started with The Tall Guy and just went from there. And anybody who uses Emma Thompson is a-okay in my book.

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