The Not Happy Thread

You have to make the most of any situation you find yourself.
Other's seem to favor a 1/4 of a person to keep them company.

 

Pay very close attention to these wise words!

 

Ok, the following is pure whining, so I put it into spoiler.

Spoiler: terrible whining

I have to do a written test at university today. We had a „coaching“ with our professor, for which I read everything again. I wrote a summary of this coaching and went through the summary with a fellow student last friday, not to mention that I had the class last semester. But when I woke up this morning, I had the feeling I can‘t remember anything. I know it will probably and hopefully come back when I see the questions, but still...

Doesn‘t really help that I couldn‘t sleep last night.

Guess I feel better now, have a good day everyone!

 

Just discovered that I've run out of my reflux meds. Hopefully, this won't mean a long and uncomfortable night's sleep.

 

Another of my friends just died. Stupid drunk roommate drove into their garage and forgot to shut off the car. They both died in their sleep from carbon monoxide poisoning due to their bedrooms being above the garage. Maddening.

 

I‘m sorry, best wishes.

 

At least they went quietly and cleanly.

 

So Grant Thompson of YouTube's The King of Random apparently died yesterday.

EDIT: OK, so the birthdate they posted may be wrong so either this is just a cruel, sick joke or Grant Thompson really did die.

 

Don’t worry about it. If you know the material, you know the material. Ive taken tests where I was sure the only question I had right was my name.

 

I was stoked to see Rosemary’s Baby on the cable guide, so I turned to that channel. It’s such a disappointment when you’re expecting classic horror and you get an old black and white James Caan movie.

 

So apparently Grant Thompson did die in a parasailing accident.

Dammit, another favorite YouTuber gone. :[

 

Yeah, there's a one-minute RIP on his channel.

 

1) The phone rang. It was Hugo, my ex-side-job employer. He is from Argentina and doesn't speak a word in english, but we manage to communicate in greek and spanish, since I understand some spanish and he some greek. I'm penniless again and needed the money so I agreed to meet him.

He wanted me to:

a) Connect him to his facebook account because for some reason he couldn't
b) Fix something at his smartphone
c) Make calls to his telephony provider in order to make sense out of his astronomical mobile phone bills that add up every month
d) Find him one to two people (preferably young girls) to rent up a room in his small apartment
e) extinguish a fucking virus or malware or whatever he got while he was looking at dating sites and
f) call his employer, an even older english guy in order to communicate to him that he has to pay his taxes, otherwise the government will take one of his lands. (Btw, his PC is old as f@k and painfully ssssllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww).

Guess what my job description is... I'm a PC technician! How do I end up every time as his economiser is a mystery, but he is such a pure soul and such an idiot at the same time that I sometimes find it hard to believe that he managed to survive in this world for so long.

So, long story short:

a) Completed
b) Next time, because "virus" and not enough time. Not so important.
c) I ended up communicating with his filipino neighbor that barely speaks any greek or any second language, because... it's a f@king long, stupid story how he comes into this story. One you wouldn't believe. The thing is that he was at his first floor balcony (the neighbor), yelling at us in the philippine language, Hugo was under the balcony, at the street, yelling in spanish and I, next to Hugo, yelling in any possible language I ever recalled learning in order to make sense of the situation. In the end, I did the wisest thing and called his phone provider service and guess what... He choked! He didn't know what to say. I mean... JESUS! DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED AND THESE BILLS SUMMED UP?! Not even his company can make sense out of it. We've arranged that when the company's superiors call Hugo concerning this matter this week , he's gonna contact me to go there AGAIN! and speak to them myself. I hope we'll make some sense then or I'm out!
d) No way Hugo. I like your spirit though.
e) And the scanner is probably still scanning. I told him that when it finishes he should call me so I can connect to his PC via Teamviewer and handle the situation from here, since I wouldn't spend a lifetime at his place, but he still hasn't called me and I'm starting to feel anxious. Did he close WD after scanning? I guess he did, didn't he? Crap...
f) Tomorrow...

2) I got back home at around 12:30 a.m. The only thing I had all day was a cup of coffee and a beer, so I head straight to the kitchen to make some spaghetti and I can't believe my ears. Do I hear a baby kitten meowing? As soon as I open the backdoor of the kitchen which leads to my backyard, a baby kitten, no older than a month shoots in. Another stray that's been brought here. (Let me give you an image. Apart from my sisters cat that is a member of the family, we also feed another 6 cats that are the wildlings of our backyard which are multiplying like crazy. Now... in order for a person to come into our backyard, he has to break in through a fence and walk a long, narrow path which passes right outside my room. Why do I explain this? Just to point out, that it's difficult to get there. My backyard is not visible from the street and the person that chose to do such an act must be familiar with the place and has knowledge that we feed these cats). Poor thing is skinny and has some shit (I literally think it's shit) and some pine leaves stuck at its mouth. I take some paper and try to clean it up with great difficulty since this thing is glued on it. I put some milk at a bowl and place it outside, not having the energy to give proper nurture to the little beast, all the while it is trying to break into the kitchen again through a little hole at the bottom of the shutters. The kitten is meowing like crazy as I'm trying to make late dinner, feeling guilty and pissed off at the same time. Tomorrow I'm gonna properly examine it. Until then I have a message to all "animal lovers": Don't be the mothercracker that finds a stray, helpless animal and breaks into another persons backyard to leave the stray to the other person, that already takes care of another 7 cats, to take care of. This is not a honorable act. This is blackmail! Are you so honorable as to save a little stray kitten? Then own up and care for the little sweet heart your fucking self! Or do us all a favor and eat rat poison you fucking bastard!

 

*hugs* I've had a loss every year for the last four. I'm sorry to hear about your friend.

 

Two words... 'Couch... Fort...'.

 

Terribly sorry.

 

That is shit, sorry to hear it.

 

It'd be easier for me to sit here and type out a lengthy essay about my unquenchable doubt, anxiety, and depression, than it was to work on this pitiful article I put together intermittently over the past three days.

It'd be easier for me to do something that barely benefits me at all, than something that could possibly benefit me greatly, and also be of benefit to others (otherwise I might as well just keep a diary).

Such is the story of my life. Forever dreading, putting-off, hating, struggling with, exhausting myself over, crying over what I need to do. But downing some beers, walking to the gas station on the corner and blowing my money on a pack of smokes, walking across the street and eating some McDonalds, coming back and indulging in watching a show and then a ton of YouTube videos, not going to bed until the sun comes up instead of going to bed early so I can go to the gym in the morning? Oh, that's just what I would do normally. Just like I'd normally get bad or failing grades and do none of my homework and not study for tests and sleep in class or skip altogether.

It's really tempting to stop giving a shit and let myself be a bad person and a failure as it would seem I was destined to do. For others, when God was writing their character arcs, it was inevitable that they'd have an easy time doing good and beneficial things that would lead them straight to stardom. Oh well. I'll sit here and suffer and play my stupid, wheel-spinning, pointless role in this atrocious theater production.

There's really nothing worse than every modicum of every waking second consciously fighting your own nature to be worthless scum. Every wake-up, every shower, every time I brush my teeth, every meal I make that's more complicated than me throwing money at somebody else to make it, every word I write that matters, every chore, every item on my to do list, every appointment.

Oh, but bet your ass I'll go the extra mile to be good at a video game that doesn't matter. Never forget that I'll go above and beyond in Skyrim to be the second coming of Jesus Christ. Remember that I will always put in extra effort in things that are of no benefit to me or anyone else.

I quite literally live in an inescapable mental Hell, and it is a complete mystery to me how I can be remotely functional.

 

I hope things start looking up for you.

 

You are not alone in this. I go back to unsaved games just to get the outcome I want in Sims. From getting a promotion to getting the right gender for a new baby. Why? I have no idea at all.

In my actual life however it's kinda "That'll do. I don't need to apply anything additional if I can scrape through with minimal effort, right?"

If I do something for someone else though, it's an excessive amount of effort. Anything less than 120% perfection just will not do.

 

I would never do that with mine. I don't own it, and a previous tenant was a smoker. It's full of dust, crumbs, hair, and spiders live in it now. No way would I lay down on that.

 

I am currently having yet another sugar crash. I haven't even had any sweets, biscuits, fruit, chocolate or similar...so WTF?!

 

Have you been checked for diabetes?