railenthe: wtf!Cloud (wtf)
 



One of the things that I keep forgetting to do is to get the ink in my printer refilled.

This is *really* ironic because not only am I smack dab in the middle of a draft, there's another project in the back of my head that basically requires working printer ink and glossy paper. After four days of attempting to contort myself sufficiently enough to kick myself for forgetting to write it down I remembered that I remember things much better if I can look at them at the same time—this being why, at work when suddenly something is changed, I'm very likely to bust out the phone to take a picture of the changes and study it.

Back when I didn't have a phone that could do this would take notes on literally every detail, sometimes in the shape of the detail. Yes, I got made fun of at work for this... But I got things right. And now here's the note to get ink just like at work... Because when I took this shot I realized I'm also out of paper.

railenthe: (Default)

image

They always happen after I've been left or ditched—the nightmares, that is—and getting back to sleep is a trial because I tend to fall back into them.

This time it was a combination of the ditch and the almost aggressive way I'm misgendered at work. No matter what I do it's in one ear and out the other.

These things always leave me dizzy and exhausted. I'm not sure my "breakfast"—a double espresso used to shoot my meds—will do much against it.

And now I get to pull a mad long shift...

railenthe: (Default)
There's been a certain person I work with starting a bunch of crap, and the supervisors are so fed up with it that everyone else is systematically getting more hours as a result.

The shitstarter decided to go to the manager, and also to speak on my behalf (I literally said "Excuse me, my name is Bennett and I'm not in it" as a clever version of "Keep my fucking name out of this, you douchecanoe"), and I overheard...

THAT I ACTUALLY GOT FEWER HOURS THAN SHE DID AND AS A RESULT I'M GOING TO BE GETTING A FAVORABLE SLANT.

*whistles innocently*

Funny how things work out.
railenthe: wtf!Cloud (wtf)
The building that I live in can be described as bootleg. But I bet you didn't know that some of my neighbors can be as well.

One of them has been a thorn in my side—or nose—for weeks now.

This guy, well he smells.

Like... Hereally smells. He stomach-flippingly stinks.

Every morning, at the 0702 bus, he'd be there waiting, and the rest of us would wonder what the actual hell that unholy reek was. Slowly, one by one we would figure it out and adjust our idle positions, trying to figure out how to avoid it. But the stink is so very overpowering that often it didn't help.

I used to have a coworker who lived near me who caught the same bus. One day—my day off—she apparently rather bluntly let him know by handing him a six pack of Zest brand soap. It worked for a time, as he was no longer a menace to the olfactory sense for several months.

But in recent months, the man's stench has been worse than ever. People waiting for the bus now keep a wide berth around him, clearing out when the wind adjusts, and sometimes waiting a block up or down to escape. There is a race to and out of seats on the bus so that one doesn't have to walk through the stink cloud. Hell, drivers have had to open windows to mitigate the problem. Myself, I blow one big cloud to test the wind and stand out of his fallout zone.

Sometimes, though, you can't dodge it. And that's when you SCRUB ALL YOUR SKIN OFF IN THE BATH.

If he flips my stomach over again, I'm taking a page from my old coworker's handbook and getting him a family pack of Irish Spring soap. Because, dude, you are a grown-ass man. You should not be walking around (AT YOUR WORK! He's got a job!) smelling like an actual donkey's ass.
railenthe: wtf!Cloud (wtf)

So today marks the…I think the ninth day that I’ve been on a new medication for the pain that I’ve been having in my back and sides, for the nerve pain that happens for fibromyalgia.

MEDIC!!!1one

In case you missed the details, we double-confirmed the diagnosis at the recent doctor’s visit, wherein I got the phone call from the doctor that went “Uhhhhhhh, how soon can can you get in here again?” and moved the appointment up from a month from now to last Monday. After I managed to drag myself to that appointment and described the pain that I’d been having (“It’s like having this big guy who’s wearing giant stiletto heels wrapped in thumbtacks dancing on THESE pressure points on the back side of my body. Oh, and they’re all on fire.”) I asked him if there was anything that we could do to see if that was actually fibro--like some kind of test or something--or if we could do anything else to see what it could be.

“Well,” he said after giving me one hell of a People’s Eyebrow (Google Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson if you’ve never seen this phenomenon before) “there aren’t any tests for fibromyalgia out there, so we can’t exactly test for that.”

“Faugh,” I said, right before a nice little stab of pain sent me into a pretzel twist. “Urrf. What’s the good news?”

“The good news is fibro pain? Basically what you’ve just told me, plus now we have an explanation for that ridiculous fatigue you’ve been having.”

“I don’t know if I LIKE this kind of good news, doc,” I said seriously.

“The good news is that there’s a medication that helps for this and that it’s available for cheap as a generic, unlike that new thing that’s on the market now--I don’t trust that one, for the record. It hasn’t been around enough and they’ve changed the marketing about four times already.”

“Well, good to know we know something,” I said, trying to move my arms further than they had been for the last couple of days. What else do I need to know?”

“It’s in the literature. Just trust me.”


It’s been around nine days that I’ve been on this medication. That’s not a long time to evaluate the effects of a drug on anything, but I have noticed a difference since starting it. Mostly, the main difference that I’ve noticed is that I’m not as dead tired as I used to be. The vague overspent feeling that I’ve had in my muscles for as long as I can recall is gone, fading slowly as my rest actually starts to do some damn good for once in my life. The stabbing-burning-scraping pain that I have been getting in my back has started to back off throughout the day, though there is some soreness that is still coming on throughout the day when I work and run errands--that is to be expected, according to my doctor, since I only just started this medication and it took this long to figure out what the hell we were dealing with in the first place. I’m also actually able to get to sleep at a reasonable hour again--this stuff kicks in FAST and before I’m aware what’s happened I’m kind of just “blaaaaaaghaldaldfjldfj.”

But I feel better than I have in a long time, and that is a huge victory.

MONEY CASH STACKS WALLET FAT CURRENCY EUPHEMISMS!

The start of a new month means a stack of new financial things to worry about. Of course, that means it’s time to do some strategizing. While running around on an electronic cigarette forum I got a job lead about tech support. I take a test that features actual questions, and then a bunch of weirdly placed jokes (”If all trout are fish, and all fish live in the sea, then what can you say about mackerel?”), and out of nowhere, I GET AN OPPORTUNITY for a new job. The interview was yesterday, and I found out that the training--the training itself pays more than my current line of work does, and I’d be working from home. I’d be the dude you get when you call the internet people about your router, wondering why your router isn’t working to get the “Have you tried turning it off and then on again?” and then the “Okay, since we’ve tried that, let’s give it a little goose with this setting here, and here and here and there we go all fixed!” Yep, things are looking up. $10/hour for full time after training is done, and $9 during training. I ONLY MAKE $8.25 (minimum wage) RIGHT NOW. So you can imagine the incredibly bad happy victory dancing I do when I get this info.

I’m on the bus running errands when I get the blip-boop of an email. It’s the hiring department of the place. They need my upgraded specs (?) and the connection speed. Since I don’t HAVE upgraded specs, I do my CURRENT specs and explain that I have no idea what they are talking about, and then do my speed test.

Then I find out the minimum speed is 5mbps.

My speed is 3.94 maxed.

The fastest in the area? That would be Charter, and the only other option in this old-ass building.

WHERE MY FAMILY HAS A CONNECTION IN MY NAME ELSEWHERE.

I CANNOT GET A CONNECTION HERE BECAUSE MY IDENTITY IS IN USE ELSEWHERE.

ONCE AGAIN, BULLSHIT STRIKES.

THE WORST PART ABOUT THIS:

The worst thing here is if I clear this out, they’ll know exactly what happened. Two of them are using this ill-gotten connection to get their college classes done--that will be held against me if I have it shut down and dragged over here where it belongs. I only JUST fixed that bridge, and now I’d have to burn it?

Fuck. Me.

Back to the rat race. So much for full time work.

*trudges off*

railenthe: (Default)

I have a low grade headache. That seems to be the norm lately.

An interesting thing happened at work today—almost didn’t get there. I had this dream where I’d gotten called off from work, and as such had turned off my alarm. So I wake up with seven minutes to get dressed and out the door when I realize that the text message was a dream.

Then I get on the bus and almost sleep past my stop.

On the upside, I CARRIED the shift today.

On the downside, the legendary wait for vapemail has begun again. The new juice I ordered got rerouted somewhere and I won’t be seeing it until tomorrow, probably. It needs to hurry up. I’m getting a mild case of flavor fatigue; finally I understand the philosophy of having several ADVs (all day vapes).


A pipe went asplode at work sometime during my string of migraine-off days. It was one of the ones between floors. While the carpets were being attended to, I had to worry about the linen. While it wasn’t BAD-bad, it wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, either. There was enough rust that almost every piece of linen that was trucked over to stem the flood was rusty. Luckily, we have a bottle of pretreatment stuff that takes rust out.

Except that if you have to hit the rusty spots too many times, you erode the linen.

Yes. You read that right.

On a good day, as soon as you hit the stain with this stuff, it sort of rises up and then disappears, after which you must immediately wash it so that you don’t accidentally dye the linen rust-pink. A few of them were so bad that they took multiple hits to get clean. …and then there’s the one that somehow manages to get a hole eroded into the threading pattern and yet somehow the rust is intact.

Now, this is one of those moments where there’s only two things you can do: You say “Uhh…” and then you toss the thing behind you in the general direction of the “this has no chance in hell” bin.

(There was a lot of that today.)

Oh well. Could be worse.

railenthe: (Beat)

I wake abruptly, realizing that it is full daylight outside.

“…aw, fuck.”

I roll out of bed and walk across the apartment—the new arrangement of furniture means that the phone is about three yards away from the bed, and impossible to roll over and simply slap into silence.

It’s 7:55 AM.

“Aw, fuck.”

I have seven minutes to get dressed. The closest clothes are streets and I throw those on. The uniform goes into my purse as does my phone, my cans (not those cans—headphones), and my iPod duo.

I’m ready in a minute and forty-five.

I’m half out the door when a niggling little sense goes, “Check your keychain.” I do that.

My bus pass clip is AWOL.

“…Aw, shit.”

I start to ransack my apartment, undoing yesterday’s work immediately.

My alarm goes off. It’s three minutes until nine.

One more scour.

Another scouring when I don’t see it.

I panic. I call work. "Please let it be slow.”

The phone opens on the first ring. “Good morning—”

At first I think it is a voice mail. I freeze. Then I remember I need to be SPEAKING and ask what the deal was with my last lateness and pretty much beg for it to be slow, as if our deskman can make that happen.

…I luck out. It’s slow. In fact they were just about to text me.

I almost fall over in relief.


After this scare, I’m going to be putting myself in a rather rigid sleep schedule on days where I work. I don’t want to lose my job, and so I will now be putting myself to bed BEFORE 0130 on workdays—no exceptions. Phone goes off, statuses go DND, and I put my damn self the fuck to sleep. I’m not having this happen again.

If you need me I’ll be searching for my godsdamned KEYS. And probably eating toast. My nervous stomach has decided to kick itself into gear this morning.

railenthe: (Excited!)
Well, it looked a little bit like this.



[Error: unknown template video]

THE BITCH IS GONE.

THE THIEF THAT TOOK MY BUS PASS IS GONE.
THE  BITCH THAT STOLE MY BOSS'S INHALER IS GONE.
THE (probable) THIEF BEHIND MISSING XANAX IS GONE.

I'm celebrating with a pair of personal pizzas (homemade from scratch, of course), chocolate, and chips.
Then a hot soak. I've earned it.

...though I think this'll be my last cheat day for a while.
railenthe: (Golbez DGAF)

 

 

What you are currently looking at is the lifeline for people living in the projects—specifically, those poor bastards stuck in minimum wage jobs.

 

I’m one of those unlucky bastards. (And, hey, as long as we’re on the term, it’s actually true in my case—If I was a part of Westeros’s social classes, I’d have a bastard surname. And since the Starks are the family I’m behind in my admittedly way-behind reading list, just call me Snow.) So when I got into the building today and saw a table loaded down with canned goods and sundries, I partook in that most holy of generous food-kitchen rules:

If you need it, then take it. That’s why it’s there.

As a result, there is much more food in the “oh crap things are getting bad here” stash in the pantry. If this comes up each week as it usually does, I can probably stock up to the point where I’ll be safe even when I run out of month at the end of the money.

But there are projects that need to be started, work that has to be done, and savings that have to be done to get a certain plan off of the ground and into the proper phase of development.

At some point I will be figuring out how to use Paypal for things like donations and contributions. For one, I find myself needing the use of a good nutritional analysis program so that I can provide the nutritional data—even if it is only the base data—for the recipes that I have developed. The cheapest alternative is still more than I’m willing to spend in the winter months, and all that is left at the end of the month goes into a place where I’m not allowed to get at it until I actually have made enough to get everything done. I’m still working on the projects and experiments, but it is mightily inefficient to have to go onto the internet every time I need to analyze a recipe for the project. …also there is the very real threat of someone finding one of my creations, ganking it, and plagarizing it—and worse, possibly  making MONEY off of something that isn’t their creation.

Normally I’m kind of lax where it comes to the enforcement of copyright enforcement—it’s hard to do and expensive to boot, so it is often impractical for the guy who has less money to do anything about it.

And in this case, I’m the guy with less money.


I wonder how many people would enjoy a little taste of Quinn’s work in the kitchen. Even if the only buyers are from LJ, I’d put out a collection or two if it was in demand enough by the time I got enough recipes to fill a tradebook.

railenthe: (Chibi Sora)

8:50.  Not even on the clock yet, and I've already had the equivalent of two cups of coffee. Still not quite awake though. With the promise of a 90°F+ day though, that'll change soon.

 

Time to get moving.  :D

 

11:50.  Caffeine count 3.  Came unfocused.

 

2:56 PM.  I've lost count on the caffeine counter. Might be three. Might be five. All I know is that I kinda want more.  An iced coffee or something.   I'm looking at the same shift tomorrow—six hours of laundry shift.

 

Man, something tells me that this next paycheck will be awesome. Even if all I do with it is pay bills.  And since I've joined an electric co-op, one of the bills will get chopped by at least 25%.

 

...now to survive the ride home.  My good knee hurts …and then there's the assault from THE DREADED ESTROGEN. I could use a nap…

 

4:08 PM.  Just took two seltzer aspirin spiked with some Mio to give it an Excedrin type kick.  Which reminds me:

 

Coffee Equivalent Counter: 4.  Or 5. I'll call 5.  The seltzer add was a pretty firm squeeze.

 

And now nap!


8:09.  Coffee count stands at 7 now. In about two minutes I'm going to have a THIRD espresso with double cream, bringing it to eight.  I think I might have a minor caffeine problem!

railenthe: (TEA)

Three days of 7+ hour shifts.  I'm tired.  My shoulder's sore, I'm not sure what I did to my wrist, and I'm so tired I can barely see straight.  I'm going to have to take it easy until my next day off—I got no idea when it is, either.

 

Imported soda and warm duvet, take me away!

Ow.

May. 15th, 2012 08:54 pm
railenthe: (Noes)


Long day. Got migraine.  Offline today.

 

I wanted to Skype today but every noise hurts my brain.  So I'm gonna take an Imitrex and tie a pillow to my head.

railenthe: (Golbez DGAF)


See that time? 8:10 PM?

 

Yeah.  I just got in.  Full shift.  I am so tired that even though I'm hungry I almost wanna say “Screw it” and just sleep now.

 

I don't even wanna THINK.

 

My phone shuts off beginning tomorrow until Thursday.  I had two choices: phone service, or medicine.  I chose medicine.  I think this time, we may have found the right combination.  I'm no longer hearing hostile voices, and I feel better overall.  Four days without a phone won't be so bad.  I can use wi-fi to continue streaming music at work and home; and if people need to get ahold of me it's a simple matter to IM or e-mail me.  Thanks to the latest trip to the loony bin, money was short.  But in a few days that'll be fixed.  Loads of bills in this paycheck but the hours lately have been good.

 

I'm gonna make a batch of poor man's nachos and crash.  I'm so tired I could sleepcook.

Oh, crap.

Apr. 12th, 2012 07:15 pm
railenthe: (WTF?)
I can't remember what I was doing.

I was in the middle of something and suddenly I forgot what it was.  I spent several minutes turning around in circles in my apartment trying to remember what it was.  I still can't remember what  i was in the middle of doing--I decided to stop trying so that I'd not try to rip my own head off in frustration.

First day back at work, and I'm a good sort of tired.  The only problem that I really had was the fact that they were in the middle of replacing switches, outlets, and painting.  So between the adhesives and paint, I'm actually still a little high.

And now I remember what I was trying to tell my boss earlier today and zapped on: the missing light switch in the third floor chute room.

But I still can't remember why I was standing in the middle of my apartment spinning around.

…and I think I'm going to take the evening off.  I obviously can't think well enough to carry on a conversation.
railenthe: (We're screwed.)

Problem was, I was entirely too hyped up on what had happened to be able to focus on one thing at a time, and that included being able to write a damn thing.

 

The last time that I had a Saturday that was this exciting was last year, when the bus that I was on the way home from work on was being shot at at one point. Normally nothing else would be as exciting, but yesterday there was something that had me so wired that didn’t get any sleep until earlier today when my blood pressure dropped through the cellar and knocked me out.

We step aside and then across to… )
railenthe: (WTF?)

In a surprising turn of events, it turns out that I’ve been called off.  This makes Sunday, where we had that LOUSY ROTTEN SUMVA WHO IS APPARENTLY TRYING TO GET ME FIRED, a Monday that I actually did have off, Tuesday/Today, which I now have off, and tomorrow, Wednesday.  A four-day string off.  Slow season is in full swing.  I should treat this not as a snub from the money gods and as a vacation—

 

No!  I’m looking at this in exactly the WRONG way!  Graaaaaaaah!  *violent head shaking and frazzling of hair*

 In which I am heavily caffeinated and seeing strange but hot things. )

railenthe: (Default)

Whoops.

You’d think I’d know my luck by now.

What happened??? )

Micro-Rant

Nov. 5th, 2011 03:55 pm
railenthe: (WTF2)

Dear Hotel Guests—

 

We ask but one thing of you when you use our elevator and breakfast.

 

Please, oh please—
Put on some pants.

Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.

railenthe: (*drool*)

Dull day... sort of.  For a rundown, proceed to the commentary below.  It gets interesting in the end.

Ah, yes, commentary. )



Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.

railenthe: (WTF2)


Why yes, it's another running commentary.

INCOMING )




Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.

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