???
by MrMetric
Preface added in the last minute: There is a story in here, after my introspectiony bits.
I'm writing this at 32 minutes remaining. It's really annoying to think that I have the speed as a skilled typist to write many thousands of words in 2 hours, and the English skills to still probably get the maximum score in the "technical" category, but I have so very little of the mental capacity needed to think of what to write. I had been hoping the time pressure would help, since that's usually the only thing that can bring me out of my metaphorical shell, but it didn't work today, and I am left wondering why I missed the comic book reading panel just to sit here doing nothing for so long. At least last place is still a place.
I did get one idea, eventually, for a second-person scene of going to the Golden Oak Library and asking the cute nerdy unicorn Twilight Sparkle to explain what "gubernatorial" means (I had to look it up), while You let the words flow over you and bask in how happy she looks to be explaining something to a friend and reading relevant passages from her beloved books. But, I couldn't weasel in (heh) the "weasel" requirement... maaaybe the You is metaphorically weaseling into being Twilight's coltfriend, but that's quite a stretch for me. The connotation of this meaning of "weasel" is rather negative, and I don't think most people would consider it to apply to something so innocent.
There are 18 minutes left, now. After I leave, I'll ask my writer friends for some advice, since I'm rooming with a couple popular FIMFiction authors (I insist on capitalizing "Is" in that acronym). And, when I get home, I'll finally book an appointment for an ADHD diagnosis, since I've been increasingly suspicious that I'm an untreated adult and all the mental struggles I've had for the past decade and a half weren't necessary to suffer through.
Let me at least say I did something in these last 15 minutes. Present tense, since that's what comes naturally to me, regardless of how much it annoys some of my friends when they see the rare bits of writing I do.
You reach the red front door of the Golden Oak Library and ponder again how interesting its multi-part design looks. After just a moment of that distracting thought, you almost reach to knock, but you remember: This is a public library! Wouldn't I look silly, knocking when I can just enter? Passing through the doorway, you feel relieved to see the pretty purple pony who so often occupies the first floor, eager to help any and all comers. Not that you'd mind having to come back another time, but you're trying not to make it too obvious that you're not here to sign out a book. If she isn't here, then you need to choose a book to make it not weird, but you've already done that three times and they're starting to pile up on the table at home... Maybe you're overthinking it.
All these thoughts pass in mere instants, and you've barely closed the door behind you when she notices you, looks up from the latest victim of the paper and ink industries that her snoot was stuck in, and offers a greeting. Regardless of what she says, you never fail to find it absolutely adorable.
...
The rest of this story would be a simple slice-of-life scene describing Your thoughts and feelings on ponywatching her animatedly and enthusiastically explaining the etymology of the word "gubernatorial" and what roles a governor might play in the governments that have them. Maybe You will finally muster the courage to ask her out?
I'm writing this at 32 minutes remaining. It's really annoying to think that I have the speed as a skilled typist to write many thousands of words in 2 hours, and the English skills to still probably get the maximum score in the "technical" category, but I have so very little of the mental capacity needed to think of what to write. I had been hoping the time pressure would help, since that's usually the only thing that can bring me out of my metaphorical shell, but it didn't work today, and I am left wondering why I missed the comic book reading panel just to sit here doing nothing for so long. At least last place is still a place.
I did get one idea, eventually, for a second-person scene of going to the Golden Oak Library and asking the cute nerdy unicorn Twilight Sparkle to explain what "gubernatorial" means (I had to look it up), while You let the words flow over you and bask in how happy she looks to be explaining something to a friend and reading relevant passages from her beloved books. But, I couldn't weasel in (heh) the "weasel" requirement... maaaybe the You is metaphorically weaseling into being Twilight's coltfriend, but that's quite a stretch for me. The connotation of this meaning of "weasel" is rather negative, and I don't think most people would consider it to apply to something so innocent.
There are 18 minutes left, now. After I leave, I'll ask my writer friends for some advice, since I'm rooming with a couple popular FIMFiction authors (I insist on capitalizing "Is" in that acronym). And, when I get home, I'll finally book an appointment for an ADHD diagnosis, since I've been increasingly suspicious that I'm an untreated adult and all the mental struggles I've had for the past decade and a half weren't necessary to suffer through.
Let me at least say I did something in these last 15 minutes. Present tense, since that's what comes naturally to me, regardless of how much it annoys some of my friends when they see the rare bits of writing I do.
You reach the red front door of the Golden Oak Library and ponder again how interesting its multi-part design looks. After just a moment of that distracting thought, you almost reach to knock, but you remember: This is a public library! Wouldn't I look silly, knocking when I can just enter? Passing through the doorway, you feel relieved to see the pretty purple pony who so often occupies the first floor, eager to help any and all comers. Not that you'd mind having to come back another time, but you're trying not to make it too obvious that you're not here to sign out a book. If she isn't here, then you need to choose a book to make it not weird, but you've already done that three times and they're starting to pile up on the table at home... Maybe you're overthinking it.
All these thoughts pass in mere instants, and you've barely closed the door behind you when she notices you, looks up from the latest victim of the paper and ink industries that her snoot was stuck in, and offers a greeting. Regardless of what she says, you never fail to find it absolutely adorable.
...
The rest of this story would be a simple slice-of-life scene describing Your thoughts and feelings on ponywatching her animatedly and enthusiastically explaining the etymology of the word "gubernatorial" and what roles a governor might play in the governments that have them. Maybe You will finally muster the courage to ask her out?