Alive in a Box

Some days are just an uneding series of minor fuckups that, when combined, makes everything seem entirely unbearable.

Today is one of those days.

I wish I had a brain that would let me pretend Thursday never happened.

Well, not seriously, but entertaining the thought is kind of nice.

*facepalm*

One day I will not feel like an idiot. I swear.

Unfortunately the universe conspires against me.

Or I do.

I really hope I'm not that much of a masochist.

Another boring update in the life of me.

Well, I aten't dead yet, which is a good sign, I think.

Also, I have new books!

Many new books!

Some by John Brunner!

Oh, Stand on Zanzibar, how I love thee.

*cuddles it*
Also The Sheep Look Up, and some others. Plus, like. Non-scifi books. OMG. I cannot believe it.

And eventually it will be December 9, at which point I will be able to see both Narnia and my pretty gay cowboys.

Not to be confused with my pretty dancing boys.

Work is boring.

Today is boring.

Whining is boring.

Hot chocolate, however, is not boring.

I wish I had some, here.

And an a . . . well. Not a more upbeat note, but something I think is pretty, just because

Villanelle

Time can say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time can say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away?
Time can say nothing but I told you so.
If I could tell you, I would let you know.

--W.H. Auden

Guess what I was thinking about, to make me think of this poem. Go on. Bet you can. I'm silly and predictable. *snicker*

WHEEEE!

I finished my practice talk. And gave it in front of my group. It seemed to be well received, so I will count that as a victory.

Just a couple minor things to fix, and an introduction to improve, and I think I'm good to go.

Now to look up a couple of articles to address any questions I may get (thank you group for pointing out gaps in my knowledge) and I'm home free.

Mostly.

Except for one professor who actually works with this type of thing. Kind of.

Oh well. *grin* I can field questions on the fly with the best of them, so I should be okay.

*Whew*

I might actually get to RP some, tonight.

Maybe.

Er.

So.

I have been playing in Milliways for maybe three months, now. Since June 13, in point of fact.

And, after I finish the current app, I will have seven characters.

I can manage them, really, as I don't have a problem playing two at a time, and most of them are occasional characters that I rotate through (Hunter to Ed to Susan to Hunter, etc.) with Maida being VERY occasional, and Jacob possibly becoming a bit more major, as time goes on. Raven, needless to say, is my main character, and fortunately he's easy to play.

Your job, should you choose to accept it, it to FLATTEN me if I even jokingly ponder apping another character.

Besides the one I am currently apping, because I have been sitting on that one and considering for a month or so, now.

So.

Help me save my sanity?

This has been a public service announcement, brought to you by Lynne's failed sense of self-control and moderation. Thank you for your attention.

So.

*Listens to crickets*

I am at work.

Work is boring.

This makes me sad.

Also, I really do not want to read any more journal articles, and I am falling asleep at my desk.

My boss has left for three weeks.

I am pondering leaving early.

This probably makes me a bad person, and I would care, except . . . home is nice.

Also sleep.

So.

Here is the place to ask my Milliways characters (or me, if they're being particularly reticent) any questions you'd like.

Up for interrogation are Raven, Hunter, and Ed, the Master Shark.

Make them squirm.

So, after lurking about and obsessively following some storylines for quite a few months, I have joined the crack that is milliways_bar. I started last night as creator_raven because I have subjective canon to work with. Plus, I've liked 'trickster' type characters since I was a kid. Raven and Coyote were always my favorites.

Wish me luck, yeah? I'm not the most social of animals.

I have come to the startling realization that I wouldn't recognize happiness if it bit me on the ass--more than that, I have no idea what to do with it. The mere thought of having it makes me so uncomfortable I don't know what to do with myself--I hate change, and this would be new. I've been content before (and now all I'm thinking is 'be content broken' because it doesn't get more depressing than that), but now I'm just anxious all the time.

I keep thinking I've made the wrong decision somewhere, that my life wasn't supposed to be like this--like I'm barking up the wrong tree in what I'm trying to do with my life, but I can't think of anything else I'd enjoy even as much as this current job/school/teaching thing that's making me so miserable. I feel like that is even more sad than all the rest.

I want to feel competent. See, this is the disturbing thing--everyone else (well, mostly--my boss is sort of pissed at me, because I fell down on the job during finals, plus he scares me a little, and while I need to get over that, I haven't yet, so when I have to talk to him, my words fall all over themselves and sound stupid and inchoherent)seems to think I'm capable. Me, on the other hand, I feel like God's gift to idiocy at the best of times--like I need my hand held to do anything, because when I don't feel like absolute and utter shit I feel so fucking tentative that it's ridiculous--and . . .

I'm not weak, I'm not, but I feel like that all the time, as if I'm lying to myself about my capabilities and my worth as a human being, and I feel like such a nasty and unpleasant and mean person, and I keep thinking "why does anyone even bother talking to me, seriously" and that makes me even more pissed at myself, because how dumb do you have to be?

Also, I feel like everyone I know is talking about how I'm stuck up, or stupid, or incompetent, or ridiculous, or a loser, or whatever, and so I flinch every time someone else talks and I can't hear, or if people laugh, and that's stupid too.

I keep losing. I want to win, but I don't know how--or rather, I know what I have to do, but I'm too tired to do it. I'm tired all the time now, and I tried to talk to my folks (almost the only people I talk to now, because I've been slowly avoiding everyone else on the fucking planet--another sign of how bad this is getting, I suspect) and they were all 'you're not really depressed, it's no big deal', which reminds me of how they dealt with the two OTHER times I tried to tell them I was depressed, and that makes me feel worse, sort of.

And all of this pouring out makes me feel so damn juvenile. I really just need to get my head together and get a referral to 'see' someone professionally, because this constant up-and-down is, quite frankly, the most ridiculous waste of time in the history of ever.

I need to make more friends, I think. And I don't want to, because people make me uncomfortable, and kind of afraid, because I don't know what they'll do next, and usually just when I let my guard down and start acting like myself, that's the point where they go 'enough is enough, I'm getting away from the crazy chick now'.

I know it's bad when the thought of living to the age of 40 is completely overwhelming.

And now I feel like a whining, complaining freak. There have to be better coping mechanisms than this.

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother/Sister Switchblade of Compassionate Rationality. What's yours?


Oddly, I think I like this one better.