kiya

* do taxes
* edit pass on romance novel
* fuck with hair
* help resolve house repairs questions
* finish "Ragdoll"
* set early alarm for tomorrow because tomorrow will be utterly batshit
* sign up for class that I think starts the 30th if I'm gonna do that
* do not expire of creeping ennui (ongoing project)

Also done:
* changed Twitter profile photo to something more like me-now

When I came back upstairs from house meeting my computer, which had been left playing music to itself, was playing "Life is a Lemon (and I want my money back)" and I believe the correct idiom for this is #mood.

Vet called me at about quarter of nine to say the Arthing had eaten all the food they left him overnight. (He sounded a bit impressed.)

I'm going by the hospital in a bit to visit the invalid.


ETA Apparently they syringe-fed him a little this morning and his reaction was roughly "Well if you're going to be that way about it let me at my food dish, sheesh."

I seem to have a working computer again. Maybe.

But I cannot get any of my email. I cannot even get into webmail on the account I've had since 1999. The domain I pay for is mysteriously not doing email at the moment and I haven't had the spoons or time to try to tech support this and.

I am perhaps not entirely in my best functionality, as having everything I use for routine asynch communication out is not exactly unstressful.

Got two achievments in Banished while I was trying to patch my machine. Then had a meltdown.

Waiting for mail program to finish patching and maybe smething will work again. Maybe. Somewhere.

Side note: KJ's eighteen-month checkup went spendidly, she is a healthy and mighty babe. I am not healthy right now, but I have been stabbed gently in the chest, throat, head, wrists, and feet, and seem to be not coughing anymore? Also I have tea.

So, jenett posted a questionnaire thing to her blog, and I read through it and was full of "Wow, a paganism religious questionnaire that doesn't suck horribly" and the sudden thought that I didn't know how to answer it anymore, because I'm in the middle of an intense period of religious turmoil. Which is, on one level, okay, and on other levels very upsetting.

I am answering the questionnaire as best as I can in order to see if I can sort my head out, because filing things neatly is good for thinkybrain and makes it stop panicking quite so much. Thinkybrain is full of panic.

( So the thing. )

I think under many circumstances I might write this for the blog, but I really explicitly firmly am not wanting to treat it as something fucking political right now, because getting political in my personal is part of what fucks me over, and I don't want to do that processing level right now.

I have a defective relationship between money and self-worth. Like pretty much everyone else in our fucking culture.

I'm writing about this because I was talking with teinedreugan about it yesterday? Friday? something because this is one of the issues in our sex life, but it's also, I've got too much crap in my head, so I need to excrete it somewhere and that's what livejournal is for!

( Necessary background: )

So that's the needful background about my breakdown; skippable for people who either know about the breakdown or might find it upsetting to read a summary of someone else's screaming descent into gibbering failure and the consequences thereof.

( So that was the circumstance under which I Entered The Workforce. )

It's not actually as bad as I've written it, the money thing, it's just. I need to write about this problem, so I've cut out the bits that aren't the problem. You know how it goes. But this is always there.

We live for words
And die for words
Principles we can afford
When all our Brothers turn to Lords
Whose side are you on?

"One By One", Chumbawamba

rasfc is no longer on my side. Hasn't been for years, really, but I've never been good at this whole getting out of a relationship that's going bad thing.

I have been there for nearly a decade. As I just posted:

I have been here since November or December of 1999, which is nearly a third of my life.

I have completed, with the assistance of this place, two novels, a number of short stories, and gotten started on several more.

I met a lover here.

I made many friends here over those years, and remain in touch with quite a few of them.

I have laughed and worked and enjoyed the cleverness and gotten my rasfc pin and my Nancybutton that says "Asked and Answered" in honor of R*ck*ds (which made TNH sit down vehemently, once upon a time) and all these things.


It's hard to face that it's dead.

I don't know what to do. I'm going to have to sit with this one for a good while, I think. But I also think I'm starting to say goodbye.

One by one, the ships go sailing in...
One by one, the ships go sailing out....

Me: Head hurts.
teinedreugan: That's because you've been banging it against a wall.

(ETA: ... gonna kill the demon infesting iTunes. Or laugh, because it played the right damn thing right after 'Runaround'....)

arawen: "No! No! That way leads to madness and death! Poetry is to the left! The left!"

Spent most the day in a state of vague mopiness, largely associated with entertaining bits of existential reality contemplation and aggravated by not being able to usefully talk about it with relevant party.

Remembered I had leftovers from yesterday for lunch, which was good, as I was having a major case of, 'Waugh, need food, can't figure out what to make, no ability to focus.'

The bonus imp of Kali? Goes to flowers on me within five minutes. A quick check of the ingredients reveals ... musk rose. Genus Rosa, you are my olfactory bane. ::shakes a fist::

Poking at miscellaneous stuff. Went outside (too warm, alas) and cleaned up some of the yard a little, and wound up having a long conversation with the friendly Ukrainian neighbor, who gave me a tour of her garden (with a little sidebar of hunt-the-noun, as we sort of only share about 70% of a common language).

Extracted buckets from teinedreugan's car, though mostly he did the extraction and I wandered around declaiming about grapevines (in the event that they survived the winter; uncertain).

Got the edit back for my article. All good, even if there are a stunning number of little red marks on it. This is why the world has editors.

Went to TI. Assisted arawen with woodworking, mostly by folding paper towels for him to clean up stain with. Noted that the crazed anti-BDSM blogger types I've seen evidence of lately clearly think that I have a far, far more interesting life than I do; arawen suggested writing up the assistance with woodworking in evocatively porny language and posting it to the blog, which is amusing, but which I will probably not do.

Had food. Retreated to have more interesting life. Was mightily amused, or, as arawen put it, "What, that we have hot, sweaty sex and then discuss metaphysics as afterplay?" Also woodworking. Metaphysics and woodworking.

Bwaugh. Just, yeah.

Got home, had teinedreugan explain the complicated Warcraft combat to me. Also discussed changing the sheets on the bed back to the satin ones, as it has hit over eighty (ugh) and thus it is silly to have flannel ones.

Okay.

Have clothes, have medication, have widgets. Have perfume oil to compensate for not certain about incense in hotel room because new moon is Saturday, thus unavoidably coinciding with trip. Have book for flight. Will get bathfoo and toothbrush together after shower tonight.

Have conviction that I've forgotten something critical.

Have no cope whatsoever. Touchy, short-tempered, kind of weird around the edges. Also liable to be hormonally unstable starting in about eighteen hours, for bonus happy fun time. If anyone sees my mind, please net it and let me know.

Have gotten flight info to brooksmoses, who will give me milk.

To those of you I'll see at PantheaCon: I will endeavour not to get my crazy on you. I don't think it's catching.