I had a dream-fragment that was literally just me typing into 750words that I have lost all sense of self-discipline and I need to get it back somehow. Theoretically, in the dream, I was going to stay awake and finish my words1
, although obviously that didn't happen being as I was already asleep.
(I am just as glad that I didn't have a dream long enough to *finish* my words, and then wake up and find them gone. That would be differently frustrating.)
The job I was hoping to get, the one where I had three interviews and everything seemed to be going really well and they told me I was top of their list...they have hired someone else.
I found out last night, just before leaving the bananamines and going to Highland. I haven't told anyone yet2
, and I didn't cry at all until after Highland --shocky, I think. I also biked to Highland averaging 11mph, which given Arlington uphills and traffic lights is fairly good. I have no idea what happened in my brain then.
I am feeling extremely damaged and lost. I need to apply to more jobs, which is the hardest part. I also need to prepare for GenCon and moving and everything else in my world.
One of the interesting things about being so strenuously self-reliant is that I have no idea what to do when I want to not be for a little while.
I would very much like to have someone else be in charge of self-care and the like for a bit. But of course, that's logistically impossible in the first place (I don't have that relationship with any of my current housemates; 3/4ths of my partners are cross country and the last is not able to abandon his regular life to come manage mine) and in the second place, the idea just...bristles, even though I know I need
One of the most accurate testimonials3
on the page is when Tailsteak said "You do strike me as the sort of animal that doesn't do well in captivity." I need freedom like blood. I can ask for help when I know it's things I can't do on my own. "Taking care of myself", in any capacity, should never qualify.
I'm moving on Sunday, which means, at the rate things are going, I'm going to spend _all fucking day_ Saturday packing and getting things ready for thus. Really, I should've been doing a little bit every night, but that has mostly not been happening in favour of reading everything ever posted on r/UnresolvedMysteries4
. I think I'm going to have to put a firm stop to that, less because I think being steeped in morbid is bad for me and more because holy shit Kat, you own a lot of stuff, fucking pack it before people tell stories about you like the ones Dave tells about...
don't finish that name, kiddo.
Yes, that last sentence is a pretty apt representation of how I talk to myself like always. Especially the kiddo part --it's definitely straight-up adopted from my mom('s side of the family?) but I pretty much only use it on my siblings and myself, no one else.
Anyways, maybe pack this morning, bananamines until as long as it takes to punch out all the One Deck Dungeon demo decks, home, PACK PACK PACK, sleep?, pack in the morning, bananamines (maybe with actual bananaing?), dentist, home, PACK PACK PACK and then Saturday which is all packing and Sunday which is moving and a little bit of partying maybe and then unpacking as much as I possibly can because I leave for two weeks on the 4th. That's me right now.
I have slept on the floor the last two nights, because my bed is covered by stuff and I can't be arsed to deal with it. In my defense, a lot of the stuff that needs dealing doesn't currently have a place --my dresser has had all its (milk-crate)drawers appropriated for holding books, and so clean laundry is sorta...lost. I think I can start packing it into bags now though.
Anyways, sleeping on the floor is not actually all that big a deal, because apparently 26 is still young enough to be fairly spry. The biggest problem is that my floor is not actually quite as long as I am and I bump into things, but I tend to sleep fairly curled anyways, so w/e.
I am ridiculously spry though. There's no humble about this brag --I'm in pretty great shape right now. Remember I spend the majority of the last school year biking sixteen miles a day, and remember also that I dance twice a week or more, and it's fairly high intensity when I do. I am worried what's going to happen as I go into the next year and am potentially working closer to home, but I don't think I'm going to magically get *out* of shape unless I buy a car or something equally bullshit.
(Note to self: The next time you ask yourself "why do I even do Highland?"5
, the answer is because your thighs have actually grown solid enough to start rubbing against each other regularly and you find that *amazing*. I don't have pretty legs but I do have *powerful* legs and I love them love them love them.)
I have actually written today, which is a point in my favour. I do need to work on self-discipline, and I don't know how. I've thought in the past about starting CBT6
, I may need to push that higher on my list of Shit To Do. Of course, this is dependent on having good health insurance, which is dependent on having a good job, which is dependent on getting my brain in order enough to apply, which is dependent on starting CB...shit.
Other stuff I would like to do today, and every day:
*Practice a Highland thing. Swords is the most fun, the nationals are the hardest (arrrrms are my constant downfall in Highland). But if I'm going to compete at Loon Mountain in September, I need to be up on my Fling, Swords, Seann Triubhas, and Lilt. So I should practice one of them? (We have also learned half of Blue Bonnets and Barracks Johnny. And some four-person stuff that I can't practice on my own. And the Flora, and the shuffle-buckle step for the hornpipe. It's been a surprisingly accomplished couple of years, actually.)
*Apply for at least one job :D :D :D
*Spend at least 30 minutes off the computer, doing...other stuff. Right now, packing takes precedence, but reading books is the most basic alternative.
If I do well with packing et al, maybe I get to go see Ghostbusters again before leaving for GenCon. I thought it was quite fun!
OKAY THAT'S LIKE THREE NORMAL PERSON POSTS SORRY BYE.
(For future reference, should I try and break mega-posts like this up in the future?)
MOOP!1: This July is the worst month for this in eighteen. I missed four days in 2015. I've missed 15 this month. Part of this is re-deciding what writing my words actually means to me, but part of it is pure falling into a funk and being useless.
2: Well, mek. But mek learns things before the rest of you, it's just how it works.
3: Of course I keep a testimonials page. I think it's *important* and recommend everyone do so --the nice ones are a good reminder that you don't suck, and the accurate ones are a good reminder that other people can recognize the inherent Youness of You.
4: Y'all know I'm dark as fuck, right? At any rate, real life horror-terrors are maybe my favourite nonfiction to pursue. Dunno, it just is okay? I certainly don't want more of them to exist --I am pretty firmly anti-Death, and hurting people who don't want to be hurt just seems unfathomable. But yes, if it's a US serial killer of any note, I've *probably* at least read their wiki page.
5: I ask myself this approximately once a Highland class. It is *fascinating* to me that I have done this thrice a month for two years and still don't actually know if I like it. I continually find it really frustrating --even when the dances work, they need extreme amounts of practice and polish, even when they're polished, they ought to feel uncomfortable. Why I am killing my knees for this is beyond me.
Except it's good for me to do things that I'm not good at, I think. It's very good for me to be in situations where I don't perceive myself as the best, and better still to be in situations where I can get actively better through practice. And I dunno, being able to do nice high-cuts in the middle of social dances occasionally looks pretty classy.
6: *snickerlol* Though of course I mean the cognitive type, not the torture type. Of course. >.> Besides, I'm rubbish at meeting boys who want me to step on their junk with my heels. Except that one time. ANYWAYS.