me: let’s do something productive
brain: too stressed, can’t focus
me: ok, then let’s do something enjoyable first
brain: can’t do that either, feeling too guilty for not being productive
I know that in theory letting a dog lick my face is a bad idea but I was defeated by the power of cuteness
I have my own apartment now (well, officially I had it for months, I just didn’t have enough furniture to actually move in – I wanted to keep my old stuff at home so I could stay with my parents for weekends and holidays). It’s in a Studentenwohnheim, so the rent is nice but I had to wait for over 2 semesters. And the bathroom and kitchen were horribly dirty.
Weirdly, this lead me to discover I have some sort of cleaning perfectionist streak. Getting rid of all that sticky, hard-to-remove dirt actually felt good. I mean, my room at home is kind of messy, and I still don’t feel much of an inclination to clean it, but it’s totally different at my new apartment. (Although I admit my parent came by to help, too, but then there definitely was enough work for 3 people).
My roommate (flatmate? we do have separate rooms, thank God) came back from her own parents yesterday, she probably thinks (mistakenly) that I’m normally such a functional, productive, well-adjusted person (I’m not).
This tiny octopus, whose body measured about five centimeters across, was spotted swimming along at a depth of 825 meters as we explored Whiting Seamount, off Puerto Rico.
Rohirrim probably have their own version of the common story where a young bride’s betrothed comes to her at night and they go for a ride together on a pale, silent horse. later she learns that he has died recently, perhaps the very night she rode with him, and it was his ghost she was riding with.
many believe there are fairy lights at fens that supposedly show the place of an ancient treasure on certain nights. however, if you go to follow these fairy lights, they are more likely to lure you to your death than actually reveal some treasure.
some have also seen phantom horses near some of the fens. they appear in the shape of one of the mearas, but you can always tell them for what they are by the ghostly light in their eyes. if you try to ride such horse, it will invariably take you into the fen. (compare to Scottish Kelpie.)
in autumn, there is one night (like All Hallows’ Eve) when the dead are believed to be on the move. particularly there’s a belief about an éored of phantom riders racing through the fields of the Mark during this night.
In Edoras, there’s a story about a washerwoman who sometimes appears on the banks of Snowbourn, washing bloody clothes in silence. her appearance is believed to be an omen of woe and death.
it is said a figure like Banshee wanders the lands of the Wold.
Rohirrim avoid places where a large battle has taken place and blood has been spilled. they say the earth remembers the blood and grows hungry for it. it is not advised to settle on such land, unless one is prepared for misfortune. there are some rites than can be used to cleanse the land.
there are naturally many spooky stories about Dwimorberg. people have been known to go missing if they go too close to it. some have returned (though none of those who approach the Paths of the Dead), but they are driven mad by nightmares and phantoms they see even with their waking eyes. similar stories are told of the wood of Lórien.
some believe Helm Hammerhand’s ghost still wanders near the Hornburg on cold winter nights. there are those who claim that on those nights, a voice may appear behind your door, asking to be allowed inside from the cold. but even if you do heed to it and open your door, there is no one there in the darkness.
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