I wasn't kidding when I said I was blog-ly backed up!

It doesn't help that my Interweb connection conked out on Saturday evening and didn't revive itself til last night. Eeps!
It was actually good for the few times it forced me to choose sleep over email. But it's not so good when part of my job is done by email...and when I have deadlines (as you do with jobs).

A few days ago I was griping about how I have four (count 'em - four) normal-people pens in my possession (Bics) but also six RIDICULOUS pens in my possession. (They're all gifts.) I'm annoyed that I can't carry enough pens with me (in every bag and every pocket) like I used to so that I would always have one, could always lend one, and wouldn't mind terribly if I lost one. Too often in the past recently have I had only a dull pencil on me when I've got pages and pages I need to get out. The ridiculous pens, I should say, have large, grimpus/jangly/"fun" characters on the top of them...and honestly I just don't want to use them in public. They are...yeah.
I bought that twelve-box of Bics in the fall, I think, and I'm dismayed that I have only lost one pen to inklessness and the others have simply disappeared. :( I should be more responsible. Every now and then I will buy a single pen when I'm out..if it's cheap or funny or I'm just desperate enough.

But, a few days ago, as I was going to write a card made of strangely rough material I thought the best thing to write with would be a very inky very fine pen/marker. And I thought of those Pilot Fineliners that I hope you all are thinking of ... I was thinking of the pack I bought for my sister at Christmas..how hard I coveted them and how difficult it was to give them away.
And in a moment - in the wake of Payday - I thought, "I'm a writer," and this wave of sweet, sweet permission crashed over me. Relieved and elated. Sheesh. People spend money on their hobbies, don't they?
Feels good to not pretend. :)