Imaginary Gardens

Have some more of that life and employment crap. ( Read more... )

So I've been feeling like crap today. The only good thing is that unlike yesterday's three-hour walk about town looking for goddamn cards to send to darlings, today I found awesome cards at, hilariously enough, the same bookstore chain I tried two of yesterday and it only took me two hour and most of that was me staring at the cards and trying to figure out if people I hardly know will like them or be offended (although how one can be offended by reindeer, I don't know). Anyway, I got cards and it's awesome. Some even have glitter.

I haven't made much progress on sprucing up Time 3. (Sorry seschat! I need to write a missing-scene-that-really-ought-not-be-missing and a meme-drabble and then fight with Word's pagination and then edit it for the free proof and and five copies) thing. What the fuck am I going to do with five copies of what is basically half a novel and I'm not even that pleased with it? Or, well, with three copies, 'cause two I know what to do with. But argh. Five. Maybe in a few years I'll throw them all together into an omnibus, or maybe even an anthology of stories and novels, but this year is not that year because shit still needs to be written. Damnit, Time 3, why you not end?! ...maybe I can resolve it in the Time 0 novel I want to write. Like, instead of flashbacks being the tid-bits, flashforwards as the little extras. Oooooh, two birds might have just hit the ground!

Aaand I'm going to go off and watch something wholesome or funny or whatever, because my head, my heart, my gods... Don't quite know what I'll watch, because we're entering that period of "everything's on hiatus!" which is the curse of the holidays. Except Sherlock, which is apparently a few weeks away, and Doctor Who, which is love and coming for Christmas.

As an aside, I can tell I'm getting older because suddenly an average of six hours of sleep a night for the week doesn't kill me (until around 10:30 pm, after which I am dangerously close to the dozing-off range). How so awake, body? (I still pack the hours in on weekends, though.)

Enough ramble. I'm not sure if this or my long-stretches of silence-and-links is better.

Quotes of the Day: 1) cleolinda, here and 2) Denis Leary

Because even when you grasp the idea that depression is an ailment and not a personal failing... it still feels like a personal failing. You know you're clinically depressed, but you feel like you're just lazy, lonely, hopeless, pathetic. Or sometimes you don't realize you're ill, because those feelings of anxiety and shame and helplessness sneak up on you and feel legitimate, and that's why you don't realize you need help. [...] Because your sadness and fatigue and anxiety feel mild at first, and they seem like rational responses to things going on in your life, and then you end up missing some deadline or not completing some goal or not living up to your own expectations because you're already sad and tired, and then the negativity does seem justified: "I'm not depressed; I'm a loser."

Most people think life sucks, and then you die. Not me. I beg to differ. I think life sucks, then you get cancer, then your dog dies, your wife leaves you, the cancer goes into remission, you get a new dog, you get remarried, you owe ten million dollars in medical bills but you work hard for thirty-five years and you pay it back and then -- one day -- you have a massive stroke, your whole right side is paralyzed, you have to limp along the streets and speak out of the left side of your mouth and drool but you go into rehabilitation and regain the power to walk and the power to talk and then -- one day -- you step off a curb at Sixty-seventh Street, and BANG you get hit by a city bus and then you die. Maybe.

Links of the Day:
Supernatural: ( Read more... )
Doctor Who: ( Read more... )
Other Fandom: ( Read more... )
Random: ( Read more... )


* Stephen Vincent Benet