(no subject)

( Gaeilge )

Okay, at this point I'm pretty sure my body is just fucking with me. I do not approve.

Yeah, I have no idea what caused that dream last night, mostly comprised of being harassed, belittled, derided, and I think sexually stalked by some horrible combination-creature of two authors I particularly dislike for various reasons, mostly telling me it's so cute I'm trying to get published and I don't know how I could possibly think anyone actually likes my writing and meanwhile I'm pretty sure they were trying to steal my notes. All. Freaking. Night. This brought on by the same two authors in the names for an anthology... something. I don't know where the hell that came from but it can go back away now.

Still frustrated and annoyed with the state of my living room, but at least less frustrated and annoyed. Upon reflection of this, not even going to try to finish the post this morning, but this evening when I get home I'll do the last episode, polish that up, and do caps and post that over an hour or so, at my leisure and not trying to do fifty frillion things at once. And then dinner and more cleaning and so on. Dinner because the sauce involves booze and must therefore be watched.

Right. In light of that, though, today's workday projects should probably involve either coding ... say, the essays and/or the character sheet, basically, the tools section, and working on a first draft of the Nathan-v-Duke post so that's ready to go whenever it needs to go. Still not entirely sure what my thesis is, but that's more of needing to work out the words than not being sure I have one. Evening, post, dinner, more cleaning. Going to try a french fry recipe tonight, where recipe entails more of a set of cooking instructions than anything.

... No, seriously, this has to be a bipolar fit, because I'm having the blue meanie attack of why do I bother, no one gives a shit, I write and I write and it never goes anywhere, while this plagarist gets a fucking Clarion workshop, book deal, and movies with Aidan fucking Turner. Plagarist. Proven. And I can't do music, and my house is a wreck, and there's probably half a dozen things I'm not thinking of right at the moment. Basically, why are you whining at your journal because no one cares. Might as well sit on the couch and eat a whole bag of cookies and watch hot men on your screen because that's as close as you're going to get to satisfaction of anything.

(Which, heh. Translates roughly to: whine on journal. pull self off of couch, put away Irish study books, finish doing at least back stretches, pull self together at vanity, make sure lunch is packed, go to work, get coding done for website tools, write blog post, do line edits on one of the novellas in the anthology, and overall keep slogging because while I might self publish this anthology and only ten people might buy it? At least I'll have tried. ... Which is absolutely no comfort today but fuck you brain chemistry or whatever is causing this. I am going to get shit done and you can go sit in the corner till you agree to behave yourself.)

Eh. Keep calm, get shit done, and naked-Thorin-in-fur.

(no subject)

( Deutsch )

All right. Still this had better not be a bipolar fit, but after lining up the wargs and naming them so Anna could pick them off with frying pans I feel, not so much manic and energized, but heartened and better. So maybe not, maybe just a combination of exhaustion, bad dreams, and worse timing. Now it's a day of what seems to be relatively quiet day job work interspersed with coding, since I got a fair start on the Nathan-Duke essay, and then home for more essay, cooking, and then cleaning. My contribution to game tomorrow will be sopapillas, so at least THAT'S easy to make. I just have to menu plan for the rest of the week.

I would really like to be on a more even emotional keep, and I would say that doesn't look like it's going to happen except it sort of is? As I knock down projects that were weighing on me, most of them with self-imposed deadlines. And I got the DVD shelves put into place last night and some of the DVDs on them, but I think I might insist that that should be our first DIY project. Hammering together some goddamn DVD shelves, because really. The depth of the cheapass shelves that we have right now is perfect for DVDs, the height is also perfect, there's just not enough of them to ... well, no, there's way more DVDs than that shelf can hold. A lot more. But then they also only go halfway up the wall, so there's more than enough room to build them taller and ooh. I should ask the Elf Lord if he wants to help me make that a weekend project in a couple of weeks. He's got the woodshop already downstairs at his place. I can get him the measurements and. Ooh. Okay, there's that solved! And in the meantime I'll just unpack the freaking DVDs as much as I can and then leave the rest in a box. Won't bother to sort them by genre or alphabetize, as long as we can hopefully get to them.

So, yeah, that's most of the downstairs done. Still need to clean up the book nook, wash the damn hutch off (I still have no idea what we're going to put in there. Other than booze. It might be booze.), and put things away in the office, but it's about half done! And I have most of tonight to do the putting shit away part, or nagging the boy to put shit away, and tomorrow to do the scrubbing and cleaning of surfaces part. So. WOOT. This is doable. I swear, self. And my reward for getting the craft room done, since the upstairs is also mostly done, will be a plying head for my Lendrum. Because I have a fucking craft room you guys, it is amazing. I have no idea how this happened. But I will take it.

Watching Being Human has had the odd delayed result of everyone remotely male, white, and dark-haired now looks like Aidan Turner. At least out of the corner of my eye. Andrew fucking Ross looked like Aidan Turner, he had Turner's gormless grin superimposed over his face. I have no idea what the hell my brain is up to, but I guess this is better than telling me I suck?

Oh, hey, there's the upswing. ... wait, no. Dammit, body. Brain. Whatever. Something. No, dammit body, too, because seriously is the OrthoEvra patch supposed to do this? I mean, as long as the PMS isn't standard, I'll take the uberlight cycle. Which is only slightly lighter than normal, I'm usually one heavy day and then light. But eek. What about it, my peeps? Any other experiences?