twistdfateangel: (Default)
 Things were starting to get better. Tim's been getting work, I've been feeling better despite a back spasm, a cold, and yet another cycle from Hell. The doctor put me on Trazedone to help me sleep and, despite the fact that it's an anti-psychotic, my creativity only seems to have improved.

And then I woke up this morning. I thought Tim had to be at work at a certain time and he's usually pretty good about waking up in time for work, so when he started stirring and snuggling the cats, I figured he was awake and so, I got snuggly, too. He grumped, saying he wanted to go back to sleep (and being really terse about it), so I brought up the fact that he was working and he said he was waiting for the phone call to summon him to work.

I felt really grumpy myself now, after having a wonderful few hours. So I eventually rolled over and went back to watching reviews. Then he got the call and went down to take his shower. The phone rang and I took it down to him and it seemed like the door got slammed in my face. So I got even grouchier and went to do dishes (which have been sadly neglected). Then, I took my breakfast upstairs, only to be met with a cheerful hubby. 

Then I made the mistake of being honest about my feelings. And apologized for being bitchy.

So, now, we're both grumpy.

Fabulous.

Whoever said, "just be honest with your spouse" was smoking some amazing crack.
twistdfateangel: (okay!)
 It's been a while.

Project: Rapunzel Schwartz is still ongoing. At Christmas or there-abouts, I'll probably measure and report my findings. 

I DO still want Arcadia to go on, but a lot of my creative spark is still MIA after the death of JD. If not for Ren, being Queen of all things Development and Coppelia Maven of Win, I'd be hosed.

I'm trying to start a review show in the vein of Warning: Reader Advisory (the guy who does these is a friend of a friend and is made of win). But, this is easier said than done with no money to speak of, a reliance on free software for Macs and the energy levels of a blackened banana in the freezer. Oddly, my creative brain is ALL THE FUCK OVER this project (except when it comes to figuring out what sort of powers and attacks a Sailor Senshi of Books/Stories, Repose/Dreams, and Darkness would have). Which is obnoxious as hell, because it means I'm braining things that have nothing to do with anything of use and I feel like a selfish bastard.

There's talk of putting me on new meds. I've been on Celexa since before JD passed and it's seriously not working, plus, the withdrawal symptoms (I had to go three days without it until I knew what was going on) and the side-effects (not serious, my ass) aren't worth the minute difference it makes to everything else in my life. The doctor is also not fucking listening. Yes, I would probably have more energy if I got regular exercise, but that implies that I have the giddyup to go work out in the first place. No, I'm sorry. I don't give a rat's ass about my BMI. The BMI is a crock of goat leavings that doesn't work on people like me and blowing off my concerns by saying I'm too young to require a stress test or any other test besides the BMI calculations does NOT inspire confidence. 

So, yeah. That's what's going on.

BIG NO

Oct. 9th, 2010 08:54 pm
twistdfateangel: (Default)
 The NaNo website is broken!
twistdfateangel: River Tam with the caption "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole" (travel)
 Why, oh, why do I do this stuff to myself?

A petticoat, and two lolita skirts, all by Thursday. Plus, the new blog. Plus, the preparations for a fic round-robin festival my friend Morgyn and I are planning. Then, possible job deals, and, at this rate, no real breaks until my birthday weekend. I'm going to have to pray my immune system holds up.

And this revelation, right after I make an entry about simplifying and taking time to calm down.
twistdfateangel: (Default)
My tent was too big, because the Camp Mom apparently didn't get my measurements. So I had to move into a MUCH SMALLER loaner tent, where I can't move enough to dress without having the door open.

We adopted a stray, who invites herself to everything and likes being teh nekkid.

My camp bed broke.

The loaner tent has a roof that liberally mists me in every rainstorm.

I got a UTI AND the mother of all colds within 24 hours of each other.

I've been trying to resist temptation because I'm living on 12 bucks a day.

And the internet is too expensive for more than a few minutes.

I'm getting home as fast as is physically possible, taking the longest hottest shower I can and hiding in bed for 48 hours until it's all a rosy haze of booze, pretty things and ball-jointed doll meets.

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