Wednesday, June 05, 2013

It’s a cow wearing a fez. Cows wearing fezzes are cool.

moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, moo
moo moo moo cow, moo cow, MOOOOOOOOO!!!

Yup. That’s what I got out my four years at UConn… the moo cow song.

If you’re ever REALLY unlucky, you’ll get to hear me sing it. (It’s not that I can’t sing… well, I can’t, but that’s not the point of the moo cow song.)

——

I’ve been such a lump on the couch all day.

Not that that’s anything new during my forced and unpaid staycation, but it’s starting to wear on me.

Like I want to go do stuff… I’m just not physically capable of it. (Hello, darkness, my old friend…)

Shit, I don’t even have the energy to engage in basic human needs like eating. And I am FUCKING starving.

But that means getting off the couch, walking twenty feet into the kitchen, opening the fridge… and shit, I’m already feeling overwhelmed. Better to stay on the couch.

See?

——

I’ve become addicted to checking my FFN email address… and I’ve gotten one review: Wow! That’s such a lovely story! Thx!

Amazingly, that makes me feel well enough to sit up and grab the last, warm, sip of the vanilla coke that’s been sitting on the table since 9AM.

Yep.

Any one who wants to argue that this shit is all in my head (which, yes, to some degree it is), needs to feel like this. This is decidedly not in my head - it’s in every joint of my body. Every cell of my skin… Remember when I said my hair hurts? IT STILL DOES. WORSE THAN THE OTHER DAY.

I don’t know how any one can survive this shit without meds…

I needed that…

I am SO over this freaking job search that Jimmy the Pimp gave me express orders to take a day off and let him look for me. Considering he’s got a bug in his ass to find me a job before I can find myself one, I’m cool with that. I should have just enough to please NHES as it is, even without the two positions he’d submitted me for.

As much as I don’t want to, I may just go hang out on the hammock for a while and let the sunshine try to do it’s thing.

——

My little bit of fan fic is live on FFN. I’ve applied for an account at AO3, too. Figured might as well cross post and see just how crappy it is.

So far, I have one ‘follower’, which cracks me up. The story’s complete. There won’t be any email notifications that I’ve uploaded new chapters, because they’re all there. Oh well, I’ve followed stories, too. I always hit follow instead of favorite on my phone and then don’t bother to fix it.

At least I have confirmation that one person likes it.

I’ll take what I can get right now. Every little bit helps pull me out of The Ick.

Tuesday, June 04, 2013

That’s just mean…

I *know* I have a better version of this somewhere, but dipped if I can find it.

——

The fucking Sherlock fandom is KILLING me.

I don’t know if you remember the huge amount of fun that my discovery of “Alone on the Water” was, but here you go.

I came across a parent!lock fan fic that absolutely broke my fucking heart into pieces, put them back together and then broke it again. It’s called “Where I Cannot Find You” and I’ve downloaded the PDF from Ao3, so that I can add it to my list o’ “Shit That Can Make Me Cry When I Need To Whether I Want To Or Not”.  (Yes, I have a PDF copy of “Alone on the Water”, too. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good - forced - cry every one in a while. It does what the drugs can’t.)

I’m flabbergasted with it’s brilliance. With it’s ending. With everything.

I read shit like this and it makes me feel like such a hack.

Definitely not how I needed to end tonight.

*sigh*

Monday, June 03, 2013

I needed a little gingerbatch

I’ve felt ‘off’ all day.

I’ve always called it ‘sick’ when I’m dealing with people who don’t get what a deep, dark, black pit of despair real depression is… I still struggle with telling people what’s wrong with me. Hell, I struggled with telling J the truth tonight about a few things. (None of which belong here… I do keep some things private.) So, I fall back on “I don’t feel well” or “I dunno. Guess I’m just tired.”

It’s hard to look for a job when the voices in your head are telling you you’re completely worthless and that you’ll never find another job.

So imagine my surprise when I came home to this in my Facebook messages:  You are intelligent and have an awesome command of the English language.

Thank you, R2D2.

Sunday, June 02, 2013

I am a “rabbit of negative euphoria”

It took me forever to get into Eleven, and once I started to love him… *poof* Two more episodes and it’s time for a new regeneration.

So much for being on series 8. So much for being under contract thru 2014.

I’m loving all the guessing as to who will become Twelve but the Cumberbabe should not even be considered.

NO. JUST. NO.

I don’t care that Moftiss work(s?) on Who. The ‘babe belongs on Sherlock, and for more than just series three.

Kind of related:

My friend has been living under a rock for the past few years and is just now finally watching the Harry Potter movies. (He’s read the books, at least, so that’s something…) I kind of like his FB statuses about seeing the movies for the first time. It reminds me of getting into Doctor Who, and Sherlock, The Hunger Games and, well, basically every fandom I’m a part of on tumblr. Watching the new kids join Teh Crazy, becoming one of the new kids… It’s a rite of passage almost and I’m glad I’m a part of it. I mean,  it’s kind of awesome, really. I suppose it’s what parents feel when they watch their kids exploring the world for the first time. 

Instead of prepping for tomorrow’s phone screen, I’m writing fan fic. Cabin Pressure this time.

What can I say? I’ve decided I like playing in other people’s sandboxes.