you can always count on tumblr for comic relief
Still in a deep, dark, decidedly not good place…
Jimmy the Pimp is pushing hard to find me my next job.
I’m glad he is, because firing up a computer to do nothing more than read fan fic is proving difficult right now.
Do you think NHES will forgive me for not looking for work this week? I’m so emotionally ill, it’s carried over, and now I’m physically ill.
You know those anti-depressant commercials on TV?
NOT written by the clinically, seriously, honest-to-Dog-I wouldn’t-wish-this-on-ANYONE, depressed.
Shit, I’m so far down in the dumps that just the IDEA of moving at all hurts.
You know how you get the flu and get all achy and miserable? I don’t know about others, but, dude, even my hair hurts. MY HAIR.
I’m going to knitting tonight, despite the fact that leaving the house is the very last thing I want to do, particularly for that reason.
If I don’t force myself, I can’t get past this point. No drugs can compete with this and win.
In other news…
On Saturday, Silent P jokingly took offense to being called Silent P… I took a look at the contacts in my phone and am seriously considering sending him the following list.
I have people in my phone named Bear, Boski, Bipolar Bro, C-Rollz, Cute Printer Boy, D, DJ D, Drug Dealer, Duke of Stud, Fingers, FNFTF, Football Boyfriend, Jimmy the Pimp, Little Bro, Maxon, Orion, Rothie, Skinny, Soup, Sprout, Stellen (f), Stellen (m), The Chicken is Boba Fett, Umbatu X Jaboba, and Zop.
I used to have someone named “Carlos Spicyweiner” in there, too, but, uh, we broke up. Again. Maybe I’ll find someone else I can use that for… eventually.
If I ever lose my phone, I feel sorry for the person that finds it. They’re not going to have ANY idea who these people are.
Yeah, I should probably use the real names in my contact list, but I’m the one that has to look at them on a daily basis and I LIKE seeing the crazy names. They crack me up.
And honestly, at this point, I’m going to do whatever the fuck I have to do to keep smiling, even if 90% of them are fake.
this song always reminds me of my mood swings but that’s OK
If I seem to be disjointed, well I am.
I am not the type of man to let you in,
but you always reunite me with myself
every time I’m trapped inside of someone else.
And I can’t see tomorrow any more than I can dream
about somebody else’s life ’til through his eyes I’ve seen.
Will you love me for who I am,
not who I might have been
or who I’ll be tomorrow
when I’m someone else again?
Will you love me for what you see,
not who you think I’ll be?
when I wake up tomorrow
will you still remember me?
Will you love me?
Will you love me?
Sometimes I feel like an echo in my skin
every time I’ve gone and lost myself again,
but you meet me everywhere I try to hide;
open up my doors and let yourself inside.
And I could swear I’ve known you
for a thousand lives or more,
but every day I’m someone
that you’ve never seen before.
‘Cause you’re the only face
that never changes, never leaves,
but when you look at me
who do you see?
The political group decided I wasn’t a good fit (no management experience).
The tax software group decided to hire from within… then, their recruiter let me know about a collections position that just came upon his desk. I am absolute shite at doing collections. I HATE asking people for money. It’s why I don’t work for myself… Passed that one up without a second thought.
Got an offer to interview for a decent position but it’s temp. With a possibility of temp-to-perm. I don’t have the emotional strength to even attempt something like that. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I have a string of temp to perm jobs that I couldn’t last at… eventually, I’ll have to throw those on my resume and I don’t want to. It’s bad enough I outgrow positions quickly and jump to something new within a year or two… now I’d have to explain a month here, a few months there, here a month, there a month, everywhere a month month. Tam sucks at finding work. E-I-E-I-O
Ah, the depressed phase of a bipolar cycle + panic attacks + an interview in an hour.
This is *so* not going to end well.
two of my favorite things: animaniacs and sherlock
Still not a huge fan of Star Trek, but damn that was an enjoyable couple of hours.
Seriously, anything with Quinto? Simon Pegg? My new crush Chris Pine? AND the Cumbercutie?
I may or may not have broken two of J’s fingers when I first heard that voice. If I hadn’t, I definitely did towards the end. Evil Cumberbatch is HOT. HOT. HOT. HOT. HOT.
I also may or may not have made J listen to “Cabin Pressure” for the whole whopping twenty minutes we were in the car. He may or may not have laughed. Actually, he lost it when I played him the opening of the Christmas episode.
Which I will now share with you since I’m in such a damn good mood:
Why am I in such a good mood you ask?
I just got an email from one of the companies I applied to on Friday. It took me forever to change my resume around, write the cover letter and research the company. FOREVER. But obviously, it paid off. It seems like it would be a good job… at the minimum my whacked out liberal ideals would be appreciated for a change. Plus, they might be able to use my marketing background as well.
The thing that bothers me - and this is minor, even though it’s not going to sound like it - is that this is the second company I’ve applied to that has sent me an interview type email. Thanks for applying. Hey! While we have your attention, here’s twenty questions we’d like you to answer. It’s ridiculous. On top of the time it takes me to actually prepare my application, now I have to go back and spend hours answering questions via email. It’s not like you can just fire off an email in response - these are GOOD interview questions and it’s hard to answer them in the right tone over email. How do you not sound desperate when you tell them your salary range is negotiable, but you’re looking to make $X? At least in person, you can gauge the reaction…
And when did it become OK to make THAT one of the screening questions?
If I ask it in the first interview, I’m rude. Unprofessional. So I have to go through the whole process blind - getting my hopes built up until I find that I can’t afford to take the position - but it’s OK to be written off in the first interview question?
Maybe I should dump my drug dealer and go back to having my brain shrunk. I might be able to qualify for SSDI, and THAT would actually pay me better than unemployment (which, of course, I may not even be eligible for).
I hate this.
I hate feeling powerless.
I hate feeling like a drain on J.
I hate feeling bad that I just spent $18 to drool over a guy in a theatre when I can watch all the stuff saved on the TiVo or the Sherlock DVDs again and again for free.
I just want a real job interview. In person. Where I may actually have a fighting chance
Here’s a Sherlock/Cabin Pressure mashup to make me giggle…
i made another thing
I was told I was too old to spend hours on tumblr with the teenagers.
I was told I was too old to obsess over actors.
I was told I was too old to obsess over fictional characters.
I was told I was too old to write fan fic.
I’d like to point out that I’m NOT to old to find an escape from the noise in my head.
If I need to regress, then I’m going to fucking regress.
I buried a post about my version of self-harm in a flurry of fandom posts… because I didn’t want it found, even though I made it public.
I’m a walking contradiction. I know. It’s part of my charm.
When I get like this (on the fringe of The Ick), I’ll do anything to laugh or otherwise distract myself. Otherwise, the voices in my head drown out everything worth hearing. I’ve talked about them, sometimes too much, but they’re always there. When I’m manic, they tell me to do stupid, reckless things. When I’m depressed, they tell me to do stupid, reckless things. Since basically I reduce myself to blogging when I get like this, I don’t get a whole of distraction from other people. (I almost said ‘stimulation’. That’s something COMPLETELY different. Freudian slip, much?)
That’s not to say that I don’t have people reaching out to me and keeping me sane. That’s not to say I don’t have other outlets that will keep me distracted.
On my list of distractions is listening to “Cabin Pressure” - it never fails to crack me up. (Yes, it includes Benedict Cumberbatch, but that’s besides the point.)
Seriously, how can you NOT laugh with dialogue like this:
Arthur: Aha, my signature dish. Behold! Surprising Rice.
Douglas: Good lord!
Martin: What are those bits?
Arthur: Ah, you see, Skipper, if you don’t mind me saying so, that question is entirely against the spirit of Surprising Rice.
Long story short…be patient with me and my non-stop fangirling.
I’m going to get better soon.
And things should change around here.