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brandywine28So. Today on the F Train, a very nice older lady put her hand on my knee and asked, concern in her voice, what was wrong, which, I didn't think anything was?? I mean, all I'd been doing was sitting there, y'know, zoning out on the Zizmor ads and thinking about all the AUs I'll never write: the usual. And then she squeezed my knee and told me not to worry, she'd say a rosary for me, so I guess...
I guess...
The moral of this story is that my RBF is really more of an RTF (Resting Traumatized Face)? Which, uh. Okay.
So now that I know about it...how do I fix it? (And please don't tell me to imagine something soothing, like dolphins and sea lions cavorting in a calm, blue ocean because 1. dolphins wig me out. They're too smart. You just know they're plotting something.* And 2. I'd say I already think about sea lions about...hmm...5-7 hours per day, at least. Any more would be ridiculous.)
*What?! They ARE.
I guess...
The moral of this story is that my RBF is really more of an RTF (Resting Traumatized Face)? Which, uh. Okay.
So now that I know about it...how do I fix it? (And please don't tell me to imagine something soothing, like dolphins and sea lions cavorting in a calm, blue ocean because 1. dolphins wig me out. They're too smart. You just know they're plotting something.* And 2. I'd say I already think about sea lions about...hmm...5-7 hours per day, at least. Any more would be ridiculous.)
*What?! They ARE.