One shoulsn't start off the day in tears and tunelessly humming Morrissey songs but today seems to be a continuation of yesterday with only a couple hours of fretful tossing and turning in between. I was so unwell yesterday it took everything I had to walk up to the bustop in the morning. The last thing I needed was an 11 hour day as punishment for daring to call in sick. Just when I was going homme evil co-worker dumped a dozen cds to be made on me before she went home and the cd burner is playing up so I have to restart everything and I'm up to disk 6 when the guy at head office emails with new content so I have to start all over again then he wants labels and I can't find labels or software anywhere and there's no one here to ask because everyone has gone home. For a minute there you all nearly copped footage of PC equipment sailing out of a tenth floor window. Not happy.
Got harrassed on the bus home, but of course, found the birds in a mood, again, and oh yes, we've been given a questionaire to tick off whether or not we have certain qualifications. I had only three so on top of all this I'm going to lose this damn job anyway and while you might say I need a change I say I need the paycheck to fix the gutters and put food on the table. I can't follow my dreams, I'm one of those unhappy people who have to pay the bills. I can't afford to go back to uni, I don't have time to get qualifications in six weeks or so and as being able to read a newspaper in one sitting is a cause for celebration these days, I no longer have the brains, either. So perverse, bored and over qualified all those years and now when I'm supposed to be clever I get sick and I can't read a page in a comic book without getting exhausted (though it was Grant Morrison). I get told it's all in my head but it's so not. If you were me and you tried to walk home but couldn't move your feet you'd know it's not. My mystery illness suddenly and thoroughly rooted me and people don't get that I can only go out once a month because any more and I get really sick. I can't do housework for more than a couple of hours at a time and I'm always too tired to read, and I loved reading, but now I can barely make sense of the words. So no uni for me. I'm not even a tenth of the person I used to be and I hate my life now. So I really love it when people just have to be mean on top of that, like yesterday.
I guess I'm just quietly jealous of my friend and all the books she's read lately, when I've managed none, I'm jealous of my other friend going out to see films weekly, and I'm jealous of folks working in jobs they actually like, most of the time anyway. I'm jealous of people a little more financially solvent than I am. I'm jealous of people who can actually get out of bed in the morning without screaming fatigue. I'm bitterly jealous of people who can still enjoy books in ways that are denied to me now. This is why my Dad killed himself so I'm not entirely swimming in sensible ways out of this hole that has opened up beneath me. I was hoping to tread water for a bit longer until I felt a bit better, felt more like re-training on the side or something, but I'm not ready yet. This is too much too soon and I'm going down the gurgler. My grandmother was right you know: never stop to smell the daisies because that's when you get hit with the side of a mountain.
Oh god, I'm so depressed, as Marvin the paranoid android would say.
Er, no fic today though what I wrote this morning I liked a lot cause it was all hugely angsty, natch, but also very spoilery, dealing with plot related misery as it is. Well, to quote the Vogon Captain, I don't see why anyone else should have a good time, least of all my characters. Well, at least my being miserable is good for something, because I think I write better angst than my feeble attempts at happy gen fic, so that's rocking along. I'm starting to like my M7 fics now, now that they've taken on a certain gothic nastiness. Hmmm, anyone know any good gothic novels I should attempt to read or re-read for tips and pointers? Good gothic westerns to watch will do as well, I know there are a few.
One question that occupied me on my trip home, as I was being too harrassed to slip away into my imaginary world (blast and damn) was that someone had asked why I wasn't writing 24 fic since I love the show so much. Now I'm thinking how, when just about every second of every minute is accounted for? Answers on a postcard please. I mean, what, Jack drags off Mason to the bombed out CTU mensroom for a ten second pity fuck while we're otherwise occupied with that arugument for retroactive abortion: Kim Bauer? And I mean, come on, Jack's a fairly together guy, is he sure that flakey trouble magnet kid is actually his? I'd be asking for the test, Jack, if I were you, and ditch that albatross for once and for all. But hey, that's just me. No wonder he had a fling with Nina. She might be evil but at least she's capable in a crisis. Hmmm, I suppose you could do post or pre 24 fic, but I'm just not seeing it.
Feeling a bit better now. Have finally had my cup of tea and finished those disks, with pretty labels and everything. I hadn't even had a chance to sit down before I was making cds for someone else, a very nice chap who used to work for the Beeb, as it happens. Seems after my baptism of fire I'm now CD girl. Still, that means I have access to the burner, cds, labels and software. Could have perks, she grins. BBC guy was as horrified as Bro and I were when I related we'd found a typo on the BBC site. Horrors! Say it isn't so. He swore that such things would have never have happened in his day. Apparently they had superior equipment at the Beeb. Not surprised. Their site rocks, typos notwithstanding.
13:45 Have cheered up even further. At times like these one can either spend hundreds of dollars on text books and cram all weekend, which is how I spent last year, or one can spend one's break smashing up cheap little Santa and Easter Bunny chocolates as my little wooden Buddha takes them out with some not very zen like flying kicks, Matrix style. And now I'm going to eat Santa's shattered little body as soon as Buddha stops stomping on him WWE style. Okay, more destructive than constructive but it amused me for five minutes. I also indulged in a huge chai latte. Been trying to avoid Starbucks for dietary, fiscal and political reasons but dire days deserve a treat.
Oh, and Widget, Daniel was on top but you're going to wait until I finish the story to read it - mwhahaha!