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Mish-mosh.
Jan. 18th, 2009 10:22 amCopypasted verbatim from a friend: "Maybe one day, when I grow up, I can be sexy and interesting and capable of showing these things to people. Or at least not imploding with awkwardness when entering a loud room full of people having a good time." It frightens me how I could have written that, and almost exactly so. (Sorry to the person I stole that from: I'd've let you know I was doing that in comments but you'd disabled them. D:)
No dreams to speak of in the past four mornings (a full, almost dreamless, night of sleep last night! I was very tired), which I consider strange, especially given my breakdown at work yesterday. I was a hair away from a repeat of two weeks ago, I don't know how I didn't, because I wanted to. Told you it was only a matter of time before things got that bad again. I think I've mentioned that we've been e-mailing; it's been more than a week since his last response (he texted me Wednesday to let me know that he hadn't forgotten. Part of me thinks it would be better if he did. It's not like I'm important or (should) matter to him anymore, right? I'm the idiot who can't let this go, I don't know why he's humoring me). Once I get the lengthy e-mail and respond to it, I'll probably fall back to where I should be.
Today's the eighteenth: it's only been a month since that phone call where everything went wrong, nearly two since this whole mess started. It feels like it's been years. "I don't think it's as bad as you think," MY FUCKING FOOT.
To everyone at work, not that you read this but whatevs: there are differences between anger and "attitude," though I could never get a clear enough definition of the latter, and also between straight swearing and swearing for emphasis. Learn them. Also, I suffer from depression. I'm severely depressed, and I wouldn't put it past myself to be otherwise mentally unwell. For the love of Nayru, don't take anything I say or do personally, okay? (P.S., no, I DON'T want to fucking talk about it. (See, that was emphasis.))
I'm changing my definition of irony. It was "a tow-truck in need of a tow-truck" (as he and I happened across on a highway one night), but as of yesterday, it's "slipping on the sand meant for better traction in snow and ice." I may have scraped the fleshy part of my palm when I hit the concrete, but dammit, I caught the bus. There's another definition, but I've said enough.
Making progress in Link's Awakening: just beat lvl6 last night, and then my batteries died. XD Good thing I have a second set. Gonna get back on that for a bit before I get ready for work. And I'm not heading off to Pratt today: Laura's sick -- probably our greasy American food that she's grown un-used to -- and so won't be arriving until tomorrow afternoon. That, and I really don't feel like schlepping all my stuff to work and then to Brooklyn. I'll be over there sometime tomorrow morning, I guess.
Hm. It seems as though I didn't post yesterday.
The "drowning" music from Sonic 2 still scares the everloving crap out of me. ... I kinda wanna find a Sega Genesis (I HAVE THE CART) and play it again.
No dreams to speak of in the past four mornings (a full, almost dreamless, night of sleep last night! I was very tired), which I consider strange, especially given my breakdown at work yesterday. I was a hair away from a repeat of two weeks ago, I don't know how I didn't, because I wanted to. Told you it was only a matter of time before things got that bad again. I think I've mentioned that we've been e-mailing; it's been more than a week since his last response (he texted me Wednesday to let me know that he hadn't forgotten. Part of me thinks it would be better if he did. It's not like I'm important or (should) matter to him anymore, right? I'm the idiot who can't let this go, I don't know why he's humoring me). Once I get the lengthy e-mail and respond to it, I'll probably fall back to where I should be.
Today's the eighteenth: it's only been a month since that phone call where everything went wrong, nearly two since this whole mess started. It feels like it's been years. "I don't think it's as bad as you think," MY FUCKING FOOT.
To everyone at work, not that you read this but whatevs: there are differences between anger and "attitude," though I could never get a clear enough definition of the latter, and also between straight swearing and swearing for emphasis. Learn them. Also, I suffer from depression. I'm severely depressed, and I wouldn't put it past myself to be otherwise mentally unwell. For the love of Nayru, don't take anything I say or do personally, okay? (P.S., no, I DON'T want to fucking talk about it. (See, that was emphasis.))
I'm changing my definition of irony. It was "a tow-truck in need of a tow-truck" (as he and I happened across on a highway one night), but as of yesterday, it's "slipping on the sand meant for better traction in snow and ice." I may have scraped the fleshy part of my palm when I hit the concrete, but dammit, I caught the bus. There's another definition, but I've said enough.
Making progress in Link's Awakening: just beat lvl6 last night, and then my batteries died. XD Good thing I have a second set. Gonna get back on that for a bit before I get ready for work. And I'm not heading off to Pratt today: Laura's sick -- probably our greasy American food that she's grown un-used to -- and so won't be arriving until tomorrow afternoon. That, and I really don't feel like schlepping all my stuff to work and then to Brooklyn. I'll be over there sometime tomorrow morning, I guess.
Hm. It seems as though I didn't post yesterday.
The "drowning" music from Sonic 2 still scares the everloving crap out of me. ... I kinda wanna find a Sega Genesis (I HAVE THE CART) and play it again.
