February 27, 2014 :: 7:48 PM

i’d buy that porn parody in a heartbeat

I can finally, honestly, say I’ve had my first few shitty days at work.

Compounded by Teh Drama of the Suicidal One. (Not bad, but his mom’s involved now and it’s weird having this relationship with her considering I’ve only met her once in the 20+ years we’ve been in each other’s lives.)

I’m tired.

I’m burned out.

I’m done.

I need a weekend to sleep, and instead I’m going to Woodstock on Saturday.

Apparently, I need a Black Mountain Symphony fix (with a side of dirty hippies and ‘shroom dealers) more than I need rest.


My back up drive is still causing problems. I think I know why it won’t mount now - it appears to be a power issue. If I unplug and replug it a gazillion times, it will finally work. I’ve got to pull all my data off of it and then it’s going back. I can’t deal with this shit and I shouldn’t have to.


I’ve been trying not to think about this, but I can’t help it.

Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of the day I got laid off.

(I know, I’m employed now, so why should it matter? Well, it does.)

I sucked it up for three years. Three long, hellish years where I gave up too much of myself.

I mean, I worked on my fucking BIRTHDAY despite taking it off. On that same long weekend, I went in on Sunday. (Happy fucking birthday to me, right?)

I had this blind, stupid, hope that everything would work out, and I’d get rewarded for fighting through all the shit I had to deal with. (Details for me to know and you to… well guess, I guess.)

Hope is a motherfucking bitch.

Instead of a raise, a bonus, extra time off and all the other carrots they promised me and failed to deliver on, I was let go.

I realised the other day that I DID get my reward.

If they hadn’t let me go (and subsequently closed the doors for good - kinda. It’s complicated.), I wouldn’t have bounced around for a year trying to find my perfect job.

Which means I probably wouldn’t have wound up at my current job.

So - I did get my carrot, after all.

It just came in the form of a great job with a great company that has a great future… and wasn’t them.


I want to find David Arnold and Michael Price and hug the shit out of them.

Their Sherlock soundtracks are amazing.

They’re perfect. Beautiful and moving. Powerful. Whimsical. Just really fucking awesome.

Sherlock’s music is perfect for work. It’s stimulating enough to keep me comfortably distracted but fades into the background well enough so it’s not all I pay attention to.


I’m still stuck in the Dark Ages of pop music and just discovered “I Will Follow You Into The Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie.

For whatever reason, I always picture vacancy signs with huge noses when I hear the line: “Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs.” I get where they’re going with that imagery, but I like my version better.