Sorry, never realised it was a moose, changes a lot, shiff, I thought it was like a teddy bear in a bikini, my eyes, sorry.
Every year, in my weight loss (ok. maintenance, but that counts for something) there's a point in the autumn when my body just decides it's time the insulation gets thickened. I suspect that circadian rhythms may have something to do with it; "Up in the morning with the rising sun, gonna run all day til the running's done" is one thing, but when your PT session ends 45 minutes before the damn sun rises, your body seems to take note. And PT is ever harder to do once the pre-dawn temperatures hit freezing, while the space under the blankets with the spouse is at a comfortable 98.6/37+..... がんばって!
Okay. Christmas is supposed to be a time of introspection and quiet? Have at it! 23rd. - leave 1 hour early from work, catch a train, catch a bus, have a stop-and-go-to-heathrow (its friday afternoon folks!), hopefully get there on time for a flight, arrival 2330 at destination. be trashed. 24th. - madness of trying to meet too many people and make everyone (but me) happy. 25th. - lunchtime. go for airport. catch a flight back to heathrow. spend the night on airport. 26th. - half a day-to-be-spend on airport. at 1600 catch flight to destination (incidentally the same destination I arrived from the day before). 27th-28th. relax a bit and make my goddaughter happy 29th. - back to point-of-origin. arrive and trash myself. flop down and not wake for a week.
*sigh* will do, will do. That's about the only thing which might make this whole ordeal bearable: nothing better than waiting time at the airport to get some writing done.
People who only talk about themselves really piss me off. My roommate is one of those people. Any time he opens his mouth, I can expect to hear a bunch of shit about him that I don't care about. The worst part is, he's been pushing me and my husband away. He started dating this new girl, which is huge because in all three years that I've known him, he's never dated before. So me and my husband were excited and happy for him. But any time we asked him about her, he would just give vague answers. He'd go out, we'd ask him where he went, and he'd say, "out." Okay, fine. So we quit trying. And now he's all up in my face, telling me about shit with his job. Well, buddy, I don't care anymore. Because not only did he push me away, but he never asks about how things are going with me. He never has a conversation when I try to bring something up. I'll try to tell him about something that happened at work, and he'll start talking about himself like he didn't hear a word I said. So I don't try to talk to him anymore because it's annoying to waste my time telling someone something when they aren't even listening. Man, I'm really grouchy today. PMS is an evil bitch.
It sucks finding out you made one mistake, to little too late. Knowing that your entire life from that point is pointless. To make things worse is when you come to grips with that fact. Knowing you no matter how hard you try to make it change for the better, it always puts you back at square one. Perhaps it is punishment? Perhaps it is all in the design? There is no answer, and there will never be. Knowing this only begs you to try and find one, other wise it is all pointless and without meaning. No prison worse than that of the mind. No ones coming, and there is no way out. But is it all that bad to know that truth to one man is not so to another. The only thing that is worth taking to the grave. Truth. No one but you will ever know and have that, not that anyone cares. They have their own. There is no one coming, and there is no way out. I've been falling, and it's a long way down. Never should anyone know what I know, what I feel. Trapped inside prison, in a place no one goes. Perhaps all the pain is worth it in the end, cause there is nothing of comfort here. Can't save what you can't understand or know. Everybody leaves. Sometimes by choice, or by nature. But now no one is ever really there. Things will get better some say. They never do. Keep trying some say. Just to fail when there is no success, just the illusion of it. Everything on the other side of the glass, taunting, tormenting, mocking. I hope one never knows such things, as these things would kill them. Then again who is to say I am really alive, and not just going through the motions. Kicking the can down the road. Delaying the eventuality, the inevitable. No one should feel this way, or be forced to. No one is coming, and there is no way out. It is alright, made my peace. Fear of living in cruelty, and illusion of things never actualized. Not of the ending, not anymore. Unwanted and forgotten. In time the pain will be gone, and all the blind smugness of this will be too. I have nothing left to be stripped of. I have all that I can take with me. When they call my number, that will be my reprieve. Alone just as now, nothing to hang on to. To remember every eternal moment, and know it is right. It has to be, otherwise it amounts to nothing. To be cast out, from all that has made it clear. Ignorant to see what they have done. I pity them, because they fear what I do not, and they have more to lose. Are we alive, or just breathing?
2 days until I start my new job and I get a cold. Fuck's sake. At least it was 2 days before, so I might be better by Monday... or at least well enough that nobody notices. I know it's winter and most of us will get a cold at some point, but it still doesn't create a very good impression if you turn up ill.
Is it the complex gastric flu? I caught it, I recall [child(ren)], in London, and staggered to The Great Western at Paddington Station. I dripped grey pebbles of sweat over grey-suited commuter chaps, probably the worst junkie really, I was heaving. Bought a ticket somehow, somewhere - that day, hugged a bottle of Beptopizmole to my face. Bepto saved me. Two weeks in bed [in Devon] was great - and round about your age, actually. I've been looking for similar experience since, maybe appendix/or stroke later.
I'm not happy. My Christmas story was not chosen for the Christmas event. Only 3 more submissions in the pipe. Then...then if they fail...then I stop officially...write only on insides of lavatory rolls, insulate the bathroom with my poetry, it is the way to go.
I ordered this book off of amazon. When I tracked the package it said it came yesterday, but I didn't see it and my family said they never saw it either. I assumed it either was stolen or they never delivered it because it was the weekend. I was about to contact amazon about this when my sister said to check behind our trash cans. Lo and behold it was there. What pissed me off was that the mailman never put a note saying it was there on the door or rang the doorbell to tell me where it was. They do it with my sister's packages so it not like it's out of the question. What's was worse is that it rained overnight. I'm surprised the book is fine.
Just yesterday I had a semi decent day despite listening to even more arguments. and by semi decent I mean to the standards of an average American living with a respectable family it still would have been a terrible day. It's 4PM. My mom has been yelling, slamming doors and talking about a divorce she doesn't have the guts to go through with since 9:30 this morning. I didn't sleep well once again. It's becoming a serious problem. A problem my doctors can't fix. It's Monday and I normally volunteer today. I almost didn't go but they actually called me which rarely ever happens. So I went even though I was sleep deprived. My moms an idiot. She bought me a spring jacket and called it a winter coat. It snowed today and I chose two sweaters over the jacket. It's so small I can't even zip it up if I have the two sweaters on. If that's not an obvious sign it's the wrong size then I don't know what is. She didn't like that I left wearing only the two sweaters and gloves. Maybe I can still use the jacket in actual spring weather and not while it's snowing. I walked in the snow. Pissed off, exhausted and cold. I didn't want a ride there or back. Not from them. I question whether or not I'm a good son. I'm starting to not care about that. I spent 3 and a half hours volunteering. At the very least it kept me out of the house but I was so slow I felt almost useless. Still having me on a slow day is better than nobody. They were happy to have me around all the same. I'm home now. Moms already thrown a few fits related to my step dad. This isn't normal. I'm told everyone's family has problems. My family struggles to even BE a family. Every day I try harder and harder to get my life together or at the very least do something meaningful with my day, and every day this family only makes things difficult and for no reason. Posting this feels pointless, but I'm too pissed off and mentally drained to write anything of worth...... In fact I've never written anything " of worth ". After all this time I haven't even worked on my fantasy novel. Why should I? I'm not writing it for fun anyway. Its suppose to be a serious pursuit. What a joke.... The only thing that will become of it is it will be someone else's opportunity to make a fortune. Anyone reading this up to this point take this advice and take if seriously..... Nobody is going to help you. Everyone wants to hurt you. You can be a good person all you want but the rest of the world will only take advantage of that and exploit you. My letter to my doctor was sent back to me and mom has hung onto it for a whole week promising each day she'll mail it. I'm taking it from her and doing it myself tomorrow. I can walk to the post office just like I walked to the food pantry. Just like when I walked to work when I was 16 because I refuse to ask these helpless losers for anything. I hate my family. I hate the fact that they are so perfectly dysfunctional and yet are not total scumbags. I wish they would just give me a good reason to stop giving a F*** and beat the piss out of my step dad. I hate that I have to be mindful of the fact that they aren't completely messed up, even though they've literally ruined my life in a few different ways. I hate it here. I hate my family. I hate my life. I hate myself. I hate faking being a good person. I hate everything. That's not the lack of sleep either. Everything is getting old. People have told me I need to find better things to do with my day. Today I did and the day has still gone completely wrong anyway. Tomorrow I'm staying home, staying in my room with the door locked, staying in my bed and gonna sleep all day and while I'm at it I might put a new hole in one of these piece of shit walls.
A guy I knew almost thirty years ago as a Lance Corporal is now the captain of a US Navy warship. I pity his crew; he was a prick even when he wasn't in charge of anything but his own wall locker.
I got stood up last night by someone who I really thought was better than that. Also, having never been stood up before, I am not handling it so well. (On a side note, it has generated some bitter sentiment which may be good for my writing)
Hey, those businesses sound a lot like that guy that stood me up! I think we are both better off getting rid of them!
Assuming he didn't have a good reason - like a family emergency or being taken to A&E or whatever , i'd say file him under "his loss"
Unfortunately its my experience that shit floats to the top in the military ... unless you are engaged in active combat, kissing arse and sucking up whilst being a brown nosing little twerp gets you promoted much faster than being a decent leader. I've actually written a character like that in my WIP - though the brown nosing and shitting on those below him doesn't do him any good in the end when my MC knifes him in the groin and leaves him to be tortured by hostile tribesmen
As some will know i'm currently off work with depression brought on by work related stress - after 7 weeks of pills and counselling the doc reckons I am okay to return next week on a phased basis (the pills and counselling will continue) This should be a cause for happy , rather than not happy ... but tomorrow I have to talk to my boss about it ... and given that hes the proximate cause of my work related stress , and that hes known for his "these people just need to get a grip*" approach to mental health , I am really not looking forward to it (*It is rumored that well before my time he told a girl who'd had a miscarriage a few weeks previously "Its not like you're really ill is it ? " - I can't swear that that's true , but I could certainly believe it were possible)