Well, Tom's asleep, and we've got only four more days of alone time together until both our leaves are up, so now I'm eating cold risotto on a high kitchen stool and typing away on this journal entry (which isn't actually going to be very interesting; fair warning).

It looks like the newborn Sherlock fandom is already going strong — I've already seen some fanfic and fanart (porn, too! man, this fandom's going fast) making the rounds, and I think there's already a kink meme as well? you'll have to excuse me for my lack of savviness on the subject, I've been… busy. The good kind of busy, not the pneumonia-and-chicken pox kind, which I'll now be desperately trying to forget about until Monday morning, 8 o'clock sharp.

I have been thinking of writing up an analysis of the entire series once it's done, though; something rather thorough and essay-ish? it's a possibility, but it would certainly make the dull hours of the middle afternoon at the surgery more exciting than they are when there's nothing to do but scribble Christmas dinner menus on fluorescent post-its.

(I know, I know, Christmas isn't until another six months. That's how dull those middle-afternoon hours are.)