monday schmonday

Yesterday's photo shoot was a ton of fun. Our team group shot... ( recounting the photo shoot )

After all that foolishness and high amusement, I got home starving and hyper. So we went out to dinner-- burger and milkshake. Mm. After that we finally went grocery shopping, bringing the Week of Found Meals to an official close, and in the middle of Wegman's my contacts suddenly melted. One was refusing, despite repeated applications of eyedrops, to sit properly in my eye, and the other, I idly rubbed my eye and the lens folded up and disappeared. So I had one totally uncorrected eye, and the other was cloudy as shit.
I found the folded up contact and chucked it in the garbage. The cloudy one, I couldn't get a hold of to pull out, so I rubbed it until it folded up too, then chucked it. They were disposables and probably had exceeded their normal lifespan-- I wear contacts about once a month so it's hard to keep track of whether they've been worn for two weeks or not-- but just reinforced how fucking blind I am. I cannot focus on anything even arm's length away, couldn't read stop signs, couldn't find things on shelves.
Sore eyes made me notice how tired I was.
So instead of the evening of idleness, conversation and companionship I'd been planning, I just went to bed at 9.
Why, of late, do I need so much sleep? I get six or seven hours every weekday night, maybe even 8 sometimes, and still on the weekends, of late, I've been needing at least one ten(or more)-hour sleep binge.
It's just inconvenient, is all.
And then this morning I had really disturbing sex dreams until I finally got out of bed. They weren't hot, they weren't even kinky, they were just faintly gross and kind of not very fun. I wish I had the kind of subconscious that would let me fix things that are just going wrong, wrong, wrong, but oh well. My storyteller's instinct is for my conscious mind only, I guess. But now I'm wondering if I'm a freak. Does anyone else have sex dreams that aren't remotely good? They were arousing, in that my brain was in that mode, but not really; mostly I was grossed-out by the whole thing. Eck. Not a good way to start your week, in terms of moods...
I'd really rather I had some wacky kinky fetish I could just accept and run with. At least then I could be a happy freak. I spent lots of my time at the reception desk last week reading old Savage Love columns and being faintly envious of the ecstatic foot-lickers and fart-sniffers and what-have-you. It must be nice to have a fetish, I think. But only because the grass is always greener, I'm sure.


On another note: For a while I've noted that coffee on an empty stomach makes me feel a little oogy. But the coffee at work now inspires active nausea no matter when I drink it, and no matter what I put into it. So I've had to cut out coffee entirely, which let me tell you, makes for a really boring day.
It's not even the caffeine, it's just the excuse to walk all the way across the office to the kitchen to get another cup of it. I still wander to the kitchen periodically, feeling the need to do so, but when I get there, I look around, at a loss. Making tea takes too long, and I just can't mindlessly drink tea because I can feel it staining my teeth. (A long-ago errant comment by a dental hygeinist has spoiled tea forever.)
Woe, woe, woe is me.
Can you tell I didn't get any writing done this weekend? You can totally tell. Look at last Monday's entry and what a good mood I was in.
That lasted, like, two hours, but it was a nice two hours.

fucky pt. II

( Yet more going awry. )

That was getting out of hand on subsequent edits so I just cut it.

Suffice to say:
Everything is going wrong today.
Today sucks.
I would like to request a do-over.


This do-over will include:
a) Me having the day off
b) A pile of hookers
c) Sizable amounts of cocaine

Then I'll be able to face my travails with a much better sense of humor.
Or at least a way better excuse for being out of touch with reality and unable to reconnect.

mindless post about music

On my iMac I had my iTunes sorted into a series of playlist, the autoupdating kind. It was sorted by play count. I would listen to different play-count lists and get different moods from each one.

Just now I accidentally sorted by play count and now I'm going down through 10. The songs I have I've listened to 10 times on this computer.
( a weird cross-section )

I'd post sample mp3s but I'm supposed to be writing just now. Hah. I'm attempting to outline and I've hit a thorny patch. I don't premeditate well. Maybe I should stop.
But if anyone wants any of the above songs, I'll share. Comment and let me know.
All that said, I should probably do the meme I just saw in debg's journal just now.
( Just to have some official form to the post. )

I feel better. I think I know what I need to do next in this writing project.
But, of course, I need to go to sleep now, so I can go to work tomorrow and stare in a mystified, but not overtired at least, manner at my computer screen and wonder just what it is that I'm supposed to be doing here anyway. I am a square peg, I really can't help it, and this is the roundest of round holes I've ever encountered. The people are nice, the position is nice, and I sometimes know what to do and do it well, but mostly I stare in befuddlement at the concept wondering how it is meant to apply to a world in which I also live. I want so badly to be good at something that earns me money, but I just don't know where to start on this one, and I've been here seven months. I spent today on important but entirely irrelevant busywork that some muckety-muck wanted done, which anything with at least two fingers and one eye could have done, but I did it, because at least it was straightforward and didn't require me to call strangers on the phone. "Just do it," the sales manager says, and I stare at names and phone numbers and scripts, scripts I've written myself no less, and think, "but, but why?" There is something I am missing.