I’m having a harder time than I have in a while. I’m feeling alternatively ranty and antisocial, stuck between wanting to vent at someone and wanting to just sit in a dark room and think about nothing. My head’s all turned around and I’m not sure what to do about working in the morning—besides taking a couple valerian pills in my purse and chomping down on them as soon as I feel the ceiling rushing down to meet me.
( This is the part where I tell myself, SUCK IT UP, WORDHERDER! )
Between doing freelance housekeeping, keeping my own apartment straightened up, and trying to figure out what’s the deal with my own work, I’m having a hard time finding time to do much of anything that I’d like to do.
Well, except for watching the BBC Sherlock series (OMG SO GOOD), but that I can do when I’m on the bus waiting for it to take off to cart me to a store to pick up a bag of sugar or something. I go through an alarming amount of sugar sometimes. What’s more alarming is the amount of cream I go through for my coffee. I bought three cartons the other day but that was just because I didn’t have the room in my refrigerator for six.
Wait, what was I just talking about? Oh yeah.
It took this long, but I’ve brought my computer back from the (basically) dead. Malware got into it and things weren’t working like they should have—and some of it was in the boot sector. The only cure for that is to nuke the system from orbit and restore.
The system’s been getting its updates every few hours or so; between the updates and restarting, I’ve been busy reinstalling critical software such as OmmWriter (good for getting out of the muck and mire) and Scrivener (ESSENTIAL, seeing as my entire work was written there). Though most of my data resides on an unholy number of DVD-Rs (thirty five), the data that I needed right now was backed up safely into Dropbox.
…it’s hot. Stupid hot. It’s too soon for it to be past 80°F. I haven’t had the time to adjust to the heat yet. Right now, being conscious is a problem.
“But wait a second, Rai!” you shout. “Why don’t you turn on the A/C?”
I’LL TELL YOU WHY: because the air conditioner seems to need cleaning. I turned it on last night, and was greeted with a delicious blast of cold air smelling faintly of new car. (No, I don’t know why it smelled like new car.) But this morning, when I turned it off, I noticed this…weird, inky black sludge on the vents, the filter, my bike, and the couch. Since there’s no way to tell how much of this stuff is in there (and because whatever it is, it stains surfaces LIKE WHOA), the A/C has to stay off until I can get it somewhere to be power-hosed off.
I think I’ll just put ice in a bag and throw it under my shirt until then.
Published by WebStory
I managed to get to the grocer today, but not before my stomach got the better of me.
( FEED ME…wait, I just realized this cut by default leads into a sausage joke. )
In fact, it’s also a damn good story.
It’s one of those stories that’s just—you know that expression, “You just can’t make this shit up?” It’s one of those.
Let me rewind things a tad.
( Read more... )
The power is out. I just got home. Eight flights of stairs.
Can't cook because the power is out. Gotta keep the fridge shut to keep things fresh.
I'd say "BRING IT FATE" except it already kinda has been brought.
EDIT: the water is also out. Oh boy.
Posted via m.livejournal.com.
So I wake up this morning to a knock on the door. Apparently there is a leak somewhere around the apartment. A check reveals nothing. I go back to bed.
—KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!—
( Read more... ) The apartment has largely recovered from the flood a few days ago, but there were a few issues that came up last night. One caused the other.
First, someone apparently thought it’d be funny to throw something down the trash chute that just happened to be on fire. The chute caught fire and it got up to the fourth floor—sending billowing smoke all the way up to six. Luckily, that was as far as it got, and the damage was relegated to the chute and the place that it empties out.
At this time I would like to say that I am thankful for the fact that this building is made of LOTS OF STONE. The only reason I knew about it was because I went out and asked. I was surprised that, for once, the fire alarm going off wasn’t a false alarm.
More surprising—and disquieting—is the fact that the entire building’s alarm didn’t go off. Had things gotten bad, or had I gone to bed when I originally planned, I would never known about it. …I’m not going to worry about it. There’s enough going on right now that I really don’t need to be frying my nerves on this sort of thing.
(Speaking of nerves, I need to pick up a few packs of my favorite natural sleep aid. As much as chopping a Flexeril will put me out, waking up on it is a bitch.)
Today, was more than decent. My dad came through for me with the meat order that we’d arranged at the start of the slow season—way back when I didn’t know if I’d get enough hours to go without borrowing money from someone. I now have a freezer full of MEAT and vegetables. He even brought a whole turkey! And not one of those gigantinormous turkeys that’s stuffed full of hormones so that it’s huge and flavorless: a turkey-sized turkey, the kind that actually has some flavor and richness to it, one that I am looking forward to roasting in the oven to have for Yule. I’m most definitely going to have to check out my copy of How To Eat to find a good recipe for this turkey. I was going to just roast it, but…if I can do something, then I will do it right.
This’ll be the second slow season he’s helped me pull through. Even if we don’t run into each other as much as I like, I feel good knowing that the rift in my family has finally been largely mended. It was four long years of work, but it worked out in the end.
( Read more... )
I'm beginning to see a pattern: Crap happens when I actually plan to observe a Sabbat. I get sick, or weird apartment maintenance issues come up. In this case it is both. I've got the mess largely under control.
But I still had a dream with Disney ducks and angels from the Book of Enoch. It was like the most bizarre anime ever. And it's theme seemed to be Suteki Da Ne...
Moon on the glass as a trembling heart
And:
Suteki da ne? Being together duck duck duck, walking duck duck duck...
Clearly, I might have been slightly delirious last night. But I stand by my assertion that Scrooge MacDuck was miscast as Enoch.
I'm gonna go have some hot soup and ice my head again.
Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.
The water is all up.
I found spots I missed in an interesting way. See, the water here is actually overtreated. There's so much chlorine in it that the spots that I missed are blindingly white—at least for now. Won't last long. The water also contains sediment.
The towels are all done now as well. Being on the majority ancient hand-me-downs, only a few came out blinding white. But they are clean.
I steam-sanitized the entire floor. It now smells like needles and vanilla in here. Nice change of pace from gross rancid drain. ... I'll probably give the floor a second hit before bed. Just to make sure.
I still don't trust my outlets yet. I want to give those another few hours, just to be safe— which is why the phone update.
... now to wash the beige blanket/comforter/duvet/spread/other-synonym-for-fluffy-warm-linen.
Beige is bleach-safe, right?
EDIT, FIVE MINUTES LATER: It occurs to me that I have yet to eat anything. And I only got about 2 hours of sleep. ...I should fix both of those things, I reckon...
Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.
My APARTMENT FLOODED.
I'm spending the next few days cleaning that up.
EDIT 3:26 AM
... then, I had to fold a basket of...STUFF... in order to make room for the bags of now-sopping towels.
Of course, these will require HEAVY bleach. It's a good thing most of my linen is boring white.
The folding basket had a bath mat and a single bath towel. So at least I can now look forward to a nice hot bath once a reasonable hour comes up. By morning, it'll be time to do baseboards with this concentrated cleaner that smells rather like needles and ether— it will kill ANYTHING. Even gross drain germs like this probably left behind.
... if you're wondering what the hell needles smell like it's hard to explain unless you have that weird thing where you can taste metal after getting stuck with the sterile needs. ...it is a bit like a combination of alum, aluminum, and raw silver.
... for the record, I can't stand needles.
Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.
The mailbox hinges have been oiled or something; for once they don’t make a sound when they open. Me, on the other hand—I drop a few fairly sulphurous curses.
I can’t help it.
( OH HAI, NEWS OF MY ROOF’S BEING OVER MY HEAD OFFICIALLY STILL OR NOT. )
It’s been taken care of.
Now all that there is left to do is wait.
And the waiting threatens to drive me insane.
Yeah yeah, blah blah blah already insane blah blah lost it long ago blah blah. We done yet? ( Good )
Countdown to Judgement Day: 6 days (give or take…damn your mindfuckery!)
It is finished. There is naught else I can do with this place, save for hauling furniture out of the place and the like—and where would I haul it? I’m not giving up my couch, and I kind of need the bed.
( *slump* )
Countdown to Judgement Day: 7 Days
So.
This update here, this one right here?
It’s from work.
I’ve hauled my computer into work. The updates that came up earlier today, backdated and the like, were written last week, while the internet at home has been seriously derpy. While there isn’t anything that I can do about that for now—I owe a guy a bread and a pizza, and that’s why I’m sans internet right now—I’m going to try to keep on top of status.
I’m seriously dreading judgement day. Especially now that I know when it is.
We’re throwing everything we’ve got at it again today, and tomorrow will be spent in rest. My leg’s been complaining LOUDLY since last week, and I’ve probably overdone it.
So, in summary:
· I’m not dead,
· I’m not on the streets—yet, and
· I haven’t forgotten my writing bribes obligations. It’s just that it’s hard to write when one is crippled by a sense of dread. As the Judge Magister says, you can only fathom the hell I’ve lived.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have panicking and cleaning to do. In that order.
Countdown to Judgement—pah, I’m done counting
I woke up early enough this morning to have the time to wrestle my way into my uniform and one particularly combative piece of architecturally-inclined topwear, when I received a phone call from a number I barely recognized. Second glance proved it to be the supervisor, and so I picked up. As it turns out, the weekend sales have been ludicrously slow lately, and this weekend has thus far been no exception to that rule. After having picked up extra time yesterday—not to mention a screaming pain in my leg—I got the day off.
So I slept until eleven.
Countdown to Judgement Day: 15 days.
I think.
There has been a break in the weather. An incredible break, in fact. Setting my AC thermostat down to 71°F it’ll turn off occastionally.
I’m stuck. I can’t figure out anything that I’ve missed. I know that there’s something, but I just cannot see it.
Luckily after work the cavalry’s in tomorrow.
And now, for straightening up, a supper of rice balls, and trying to NOT pick Patapon back up. (MOST ADORABLE MINIONS EVER BTW). They bring me my foe’s head as a gift! I’ll gladly chow down on that dragon’s head, bastard cost me my strongest little soldier, swallowed him whole *mumble mutter* and so I can’t even bring him back like I would have otherwise *mumble mumble mutter*
I’m starting to really feel this now. As the day of reckoning approaches, with its heralds sounding brazen trumpets, progress has suddenly stalled…
( Why? )
Countdown to Judgement Day: 25 Days
I’m taking a bit of a breather today.
While the cleaning still isn’t totally done I’ve decided that it’s all for nothing if I wind up sending myself to the hospital.
Again.
( Orley? )
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