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Jun. 29th, 2017 10:45 amSo, my entire past week has been thus:
Thursday: Fairly ordinary day, work isn't too busy that I can't come up with cool shit to do with my writing, get home all fired up to get to work, get dinner, sit down. Get absolutely nothing done because suddenly my head has become a mucus generator working overtime and, well, nothing getting done.
Friday: Wake up, have contracted plague. Yay. Call in sick to work. Go back to bed. Spend a lot of Saturday sleeping and Sunday being awake but resenting everything.
Monday: Having spent all of the previous night waking up every hour and a half or so, wake up wondering if I really have to go in. Call Aunt, who it turns out has also been sick. Get reminded that if we don't go in there will be one person to handle front counter, phones and mail order, and internet mail order for the first four hours of the day. Hang up, swear a lot, drag self through the morning process of getting to work. Get to work. Leave the fuck early because fuck life. (Still manage to get a fairly decent sketch of a jellyfish mermaid done though.)
Tuesday: I slept! I feel better! Things are going so much better! Get to work. Get through the day in a more or less ordinary fashion, things are too hectic to write but they're the normal kind of hectic, people need to be called about orders, substitutions, items not in stock or delayed or whatever, schools. Come three o'clock I'm ready to start printing labels to have the UPS shipping done by four.
UPS software breaks down and enters an endless loop of getting 3/4 of the way done loading and then stopping and restarting. For half a damn hour. SO FINE nothing goes out today via that way.
Wednesday: I went home fairly surly, did not capoeira because still congested in the lungs, went around and did some gardening, some assembling of things, some fine-tuning of my sugar scrub experiment, okay. Feel better. Go to work the next morning with the plan that, fine, I will ship on the UPS website and print out labels and it'll be fine. It is not fine. I get 1-2 labels printed out on the website and then something breaks and suddenly all it can print out is 1/16th size labels. I proceed to have a tiny meltdown at work because what the actual fuck is going on here I have spent the better part of a week now either with my health broken or my work systems broken. Finally, at the end of the day, figure out at least some degree of what the fuck is going on with the website labels, such that if I break it I can fix it again.
(Go home, try to do a Pokemon raid to de-stress. Fail three times even after spending Pokecoins because no one else in the fucking neighborhood can be bothered to do more than fill a fucking gym. Assholes.)
Thursday: Get to work, fire up US Post office website. Post office website breaks.
I am so fucking done with fucking everything I do not have enough fucking places to say fuck in my fucking sentences to my satisfaction I am just done. I can't even stress shop anymore, all I want to do is not be at work and instead be doing my write job that I can actually do because at least that fucking software fucking works.
I am so tired you guys. I am ready to cry at any given moment during 75% of the day. I want to scream at everyone. Nothing I touch works right and I am the most useless and I can do fucking nothing. I am so, so goddamn tired.
The one saving grace here is that out of everything, the only things that haven't broken (well, more than temporarily) are the tools I use to write. Namely my brain and hands. If I can manage it because I have hit the stage beyond being upset where everything is empty, I will get some writing done today. And that might make me feel better. It usually seems to.
Thursday: Fairly ordinary day, work isn't too busy that I can't come up with cool shit to do with my writing, get home all fired up to get to work, get dinner, sit down. Get absolutely nothing done because suddenly my head has become a mucus generator working overtime and, well, nothing getting done.
Friday: Wake up, have contracted plague. Yay. Call in sick to work. Go back to bed. Spend a lot of Saturday sleeping and Sunday being awake but resenting everything.
Monday: Having spent all of the previous night waking up every hour and a half or so, wake up wondering if I really have to go in. Call Aunt, who it turns out has also been sick. Get reminded that if we don't go in there will be one person to handle front counter, phones and mail order, and internet mail order for the first four hours of the day. Hang up, swear a lot, drag self through the morning process of getting to work. Get to work. Leave the fuck early because fuck life. (Still manage to get a fairly decent sketch of a jellyfish mermaid done though.)
Tuesday: I slept! I feel better! Things are going so much better! Get to work. Get through the day in a more or less ordinary fashion, things are too hectic to write but they're the normal kind of hectic, people need to be called about orders, substitutions, items not in stock or delayed or whatever, schools. Come three o'clock I'm ready to start printing labels to have the UPS shipping done by four.
UPS software breaks down and enters an endless loop of getting 3/4 of the way done loading and then stopping and restarting. For half a damn hour. SO FINE nothing goes out today via that way.
Wednesday: I went home fairly surly, did not capoeira because still congested in the lungs, went around and did some gardening, some assembling of things, some fine-tuning of my sugar scrub experiment, okay. Feel better. Go to work the next morning with the plan that, fine, I will ship on the UPS website and print out labels and it'll be fine. It is not fine. I get 1-2 labels printed out on the website and then something breaks and suddenly all it can print out is 1/16th size labels. I proceed to have a tiny meltdown at work because what the actual fuck is going on here I have spent the better part of a week now either with my health broken or my work systems broken. Finally, at the end of the day, figure out at least some degree of what the fuck is going on with the website labels, such that if I break it I can fix it again.
(Go home, try to do a Pokemon raid to de-stress. Fail three times even after spending Pokecoins because no one else in the fucking neighborhood can be bothered to do more than fill a fucking gym. Assholes.)
Thursday: Get to work, fire up US Post office website. Post office website breaks.
I am so fucking done with fucking everything I do not have enough fucking places to say fuck in my fucking sentences to my satisfaction I am just done. I can't even stress shop anymore, all I want to do is not be at work and instead be doing my write job that I can actually do because at least that fucking software fucking works.
I am so tired you guys. I am ready to cry at any given moment during 75% of the day. I want to scream at everyone. Nothing I touch works right and I am the most useless and I can do fucking nothing. I am so, so goddamn tired.
The one saving grace here is that out of everything, the only things that haven't broken (well, more than temporarily) are the tools I use to write. Namely my brain and hands. If I can manage it because I have hit the stage beyond being upset where everything is empty, I will get some writing done today. And that might make me feel better. It usually seems to.