No One's Ever Lost Forever

Bedtime, soon, methinks. I spent the evening with clawfoot, eating burgers and junk food and watching Black Hawk Down (plus American Dad on Global, as it just happened to be on television once the DVD player was turned off..it was amusing, however). It's odd. After two weeks of not eating crap, I feel slow and sluggish now. I guess I did before, but never noticed. If eating too many potato chips and having an ice cream bar and drinking one can of gingerale makes me feel like this, then it's time to stop. I haven't really missed it up until this point (well, except for ice cream...I can eat that stuff for breakfast and have done on occasion), so it will be good to just keep it up as a rare treat and not buy stuff like that every time we do groceries.

Bed time now. Work tomorrow. I need to get quarters and bus tickets and I have to get the bedding washed sometime this week and still finish my costume. Busy week ahead. Busy busy week. I should get some sleep if I'm going to tackle it.

My stomach is in knots and I feel nauseous. Why? As soon as I'm done looking for work, I'm going to be emailing my old supervisor informing him that I am willing to go back on Monday.

I know I gave myself another week to find something that wasn't phone/people related, but I have to be an adult about this. There are just some things that you have to do, regardless of your own personal wants/desires. To be honest, it feels a little like I'm selling myself down the river, breaking that promise I made to myself to never go back, come hell or high water.

Unfortunately, when money (or lack thereof) is involved, personal needs no longer take precedence. It's not the right thing to do, I know that. But it is the responsible thing.

I feel so incredibly lazy. I should be looking for work...oh, wait a minute, I already did that this morning. It hasn't hit the stressful point yet where not having a paycheque means not paying bills, but it feels very decadent to have all this free time for me.

Now don't get me wrong, I've gotten stuff done like finished off the thank you notes from the funeral donations and prepped/primed the walls in the living room for some touch up painting. It just seems, though, like I'm not doing enough with my time, that I should be out there pounding the pavement looking for something that I know I'll despise because it puts money in the bank.

I guess what it boils down to is a little bit of a guilty feeling because it seems I'm being slothful while fuzzpsych is slogging away at the Hell that Goes Up. I could go back, if I wanted, but I just can't.

It appears I can quit my job without it affecting my leave at all. That's at least one burden off my shoulders.

And, no matter how this whole thing turns out, we have to move. It may be into another apartment, it may be into a house, but no matter what, it's time.

I've just gotten around to finally putting entries into the "memories" thing...one about work that sums up how I feel about where I work and the job that I do in less than 25 words, and the two writing ones, mostly so I don't have to go searching through the archive to find them (nor will anybody else if they're interested in reading them).

And maybe, just maybe, I'll get more of my novel written and possibly post another of the sections (that are work safe, at any rate)...

I'm so very tempted to give up writing completely. Go work in a factory somewhere and just give it up. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy doing it and I would love nothing more than to eke a meager existence out of it, but right now that doesn't seem very practical.

The baby takes a lot out of me. So much that it feels like there's nothing left...no motivation, no drive, no creativity...nothing.

It looks like it's back to the phones when MatLeave is done. Oh well. It was a nice dream.

I am so tired. After a good night (and the startling generosity of my friends...thank you ever so much), I got to listen to my downstair neighbour fuckwits yell, scream, sing at the top of their lungs, jump on the floor, bang around on their deck, etc etc etc, in order to disturb the basement tenants. They already drove out the two previous tenants with the same behaviour. To top it off, I'm certain I heard one of them saying something about the basement tenants getting a free month (from their loudmouthed idiocy, I presume) and with it October, that month is up.

It's like they want notches on a bed post to see how many they can drive out before they're evicted.

The landlord knows what's going on, but does nothing, so it's useless to complain.

And everytime we call the cops, they shut up before they get there.

So I've had maybe four hours of broken sleep *and* I get the priviledge of playing an old LARP character tonight at the Elders game.

It's a good thing she's a cranky and callous bitch. I don't think I could do anything else with any believability if I tried.