Commence dying.

Two miles on the beach today.

5K this afternoon with my gym buddy.

Five-ish miles all together. All with 30 pounds of good livin’ attached to my back.

The verdict is: I think I’m going to die.

And, dude, that’s just WALKING. Never mind the fact that I haven’t done a single push up, flutter kick, bear crawl, etc. with the pack on. OR carrying a log. OR carrying the team weight…

I’ll be revising my will this week. If you want anything, let me know.

——

I got another positive review on my Johnlock fic! That’s a whole whopping three people who have said kind things, and zero who have been shitheads.

Of course, I’m just dying to be a shithead. I was reading what could have been a beautiful piece of fic and the author used the phrase “would of/could of” CONSISTENTLY. I thought I was going to jump through my phone and strangle the author. I see some offers to proofread/beta in my future. I don’t want to read beautiful fan fic that’s ruined because the author doesn’t know how to write. Most people who write in English when it’s not their first language will make a comment, or it’s very obvious. There’s nothing about this person that would lead me to assume that English is a second language… and that just makes me sad.

OK. Off to thank the review writer…

First thoughts

We went to the beach this morning, J, Guinness and I.

I had ulterior motives… It seems like, whenever possible, there’s a part of the Challenge where the team winds up in the water. (Check out some of the pics from Challenges past.) There’s a lot of stuff online where people talk about what they wear, which makes sense. There’s a lot of sweating and, of course, the water so moisture wicking stuff is important.

I got fully dressed in every thing I intend to wear next weekend: 30 lb. ruck, sneakers, socks, compression shorts, moisture wicking tank top, running shorts, t-shirt.

And then my ass headed directly into the ocean.

THAT WATER WAS COLD.

Yes, I know - this is not a newsflash. I live in New England. I’ve spent a lot of time at the beaches here. But, at 7AM when it’s barely 70 degrees outside, and you haven’t broken a sweat yet?

COLD. COLD. COLD. COLD!

The best part was when Guinness decided to join me. He was so afraid, but he ‘embraced the suck’ and came in with me. Not a huge fan of the waves because I think they took him by surprise, but still! He’s a real New England beach dog now. (You’d be amazed by the number of people who bring their dogs to the beach ass-early so they can run and play in the water.) I’m amazed that for all the times he and J have gone to the beach - Guinness being off-leash, no less - he hasn’t wound up in the water by now.

We went in a couple of times. The last time, I underestimated the tide, gravity and momentum and wound up on my ass. Had the waves been much bigger, I would have been submerged. I wanted to get totally wet, but I had stayed closer to the edge because Guinness kept following me in and I didn’t want him in over his head. That last time, the Universe had it’s own plan. It must have thought I was wussing out or something…

The good news is, the moisture wicking clothing wicked moisture. The sneakers and socks did OK. My wet, pruney, feet didn’t blister. The ruck seems to be waterproof.

I’m going to call that a success and get ready to leave to meet up with my gym buddy for a long walk/jog.

All those British boys…

My interview in Needham went pretty well. It turns out that they’re good with working remotely. There’s a guy from Maine who works there, and if they don’t care about his commute, they won’t care about mine.

There’s a lot to like about that company. *fingers crossed*

My Tuesday interview became Wednesday.  At least I still have the interview… although I’m nervous they’ll pull something like the cost job did.

My friends are awesome (as if I needed to say that again). I’ve been a little out of sorts since the interview… I was the first person in and he didn’t take a single note during my interview. Can’t tell if I blew it or not. So it’s nice to laugh that hard and be set right.

Today, the monster I created (a friend from high school and a friend from college have bonded over ‘mommy’ stuff), decided to address circumcision on Facebook. It’s not something I pay attention to because kids aren’t something on my bucket list, but I do see the stuff they post from time to time. It’s to the point where even I think it’s a bad idea. Which started this thing that ended with my friend reminding me that all my British crushes have ALL of their equipment. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard that one comment made me laugh. I’m not even sure why.

Was thinking about driving to NY for a Black Mountain Symphony show, but decided against it. It’s a five and a half hour drive and I’m just not into it today. Which really sucks because I want to see them… Maybe I should shift my job search to Albany. Screw the UK.

OK. My fan fic is calling. Outside is calling. I think I can mix the two for a while. Maybe I’ll bring out a notebook and write the new bits longhand. (Does anyone do that anymore?!)

Thank you, AO3 and FFN

There are two types of fan fic writers…

The Amazing
But one day Greg asks. John can’t blame him for asking because they are a little drunk and alcohol is the bridge to things unexplored.  - this line makes me cry, it’s so beautiful. (It’s from a Sherlock fan fic called “Safety Guaranteed”, which is about how Sherlock’s coat is kind of his grown up safety blankie. It’s cute and not pr0n.)

The What THE FUCK Are They Smoking?
when sam lied down castiel started petting sams willy and then sam started petting deans willy and then dean petted casteils willy and it was like a happy willy petting zoo and they were all happy - atrocious spelling, lack of punctuation, etc. aside… a happy willy petting zoo?!?! (Author information withheld…)

hmrph

It’s like Supernatural day on tumblr, so I decided I needed some Cabbagepatch in my life.

I found out today that I was not qualified for three different jobs.

I found out today that the URGENT temp-to-perm was already filled.

A little girl ran over my foot playing with a toy car while I was waiting for my car to get serviced. Neither the mother nor the girl apologised, even though they were both aware of it. However, when my phone rang (company I applied to), the mother made a HUGE point of saying how rude it was for me to take a phone call in the waiting room. AS SOON AS I KNEW WHO IT WAS, I PACKED MY BOOK UP AND HIGHTAILED IT OUTSIDE SO THEY WOULDN’T HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME. I was in the waiting room for maybe a minute trying to figure out if it was a phone screen or a quick call to schedule an interview. But, yeah, I’m rude.

The best part? As they’re walking past me to their car, she mentions again how rude it was. She should be thanking her lucky stars that I was still on the phone, or she would have gotten an earful from me. (The actual best part? I used her bitchiness during the phone screen as an example of dealing with assclowns.)

Interview tomorrow.

Interview Tuesday.

Something better come along. Soon.