Slept when I got home from work. Stupid. Now 2am and I can't fucking sleep. Bitch bitch bitch. Go the fuck to sleep, body. You're tired and I've put you to bed with an open window so you can breathe and a hot water bottle for warmth because it's cold with the window open. Now go to sleep before I lose my temper.
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( Stress at work, hand injury, shopping/hiking, sleep. Kinda rambly )
Anyway, we're now down to the last few things. Finding a good map at the correct scale so I can find my way around the two cities. Pretty much all the packing is done. There's still things like putting my cards in my travel wallet and packing my sunglasses - can't do either until I get home after the social tomorrow. And packing my phone, charger, hairbrush and pyjamas - all to be done when I wake up at ouch o'clock on Thursday. And food, but I need to go shopping for that on the way to Rangers. I have emptied my camera, I have put my writing and the entire first season of Boardwalk Empire on my (newly charged) netbook and packed the lot.
Now to watch the ash and quiver until I'm actually in the air (when I remember that I'm a slightly nervous flyer. Even I forget this. I look forward to plane journeys for months. I sit in my seat and bounce like a child and stare out of the window and adore both take-off and landing. I love flying. But when we're levelling off and the engines go quiet, I get twitchy. And when the turbulence is bad enough for the pilot to put the seatbelt signs on, I become convinced we're about to be thrown out of the air and die hideously. But if the engines are noisy and the flight is smooth, I love flying and I will sit there and be scornful of anyone who is nervous). I have decided that my next holiday will be to Iceland, armed with a very large cork. Damn them and their volcanoes.
Also, I am tired. I couldn't sleep Sunday night because my brain was dancing around singing about pirates all night and I woke up far too early this morning and didn't get back to sleep properly. And if I go to bed with the window open, it's too cold to sleep and I am forced to close it. But if the window is closed, I wake up at just-before-sunrise (which is quite early in summer) because I'm hideously uncomfortable without some fresh air, so that's been disturbing me every night for the last week or so. So I am quite tired, especially in the mornings, and therefore liable to uncharacteristic.
Umm... that's about all I have to say, really. Maybe I'll think of something else later on, but never mind.
It was hard yesterday (although having not slept yet, it still feels today; anyway, I mean Monday) to snap out of the miserable mood. Once I get a feeling lodged in my head, it's really hard to get rid of it, particularly when that feeling is that you don't have any friends. Just constantly going over and over it. Fortunately, my head can only really contain one persistent thought at a time and learning to be left-handed can occupy enough of it that there isn't enough space left for sad feelings. And then Brownies (have I mentioned recently what a cure-all they can be?) drove out all thoughts altogether. Brownies are brilliant for cheering me up. We did some skipping with them and by the end, we had two who had, through stubborn refusal to give up, pretty much mastered the art of jumping into the double-dutch ropes. They weren't so brilliant at carrying on jumping once they were in but they could get in and that was a joy to watch.
Then afterwards, me and Mandy compared upper arm muscles. I used to climb quite a bit at uni, I used to have proper muscles there (until someone attempted to feel the muscle. I am very ticklish. Someone grabbing my arm instantly reduces the muslce to squirming spider limbs) and although they're not as prominent as they used to be, yeah, there's still muscle of a sort there.
I am tired. I have dimmed my laptop as much as it'll go but the light is still really hurting my eyes and picking up a computer is a really, really bad way to tire myself out. I'm going to stop rambling, put it down and lie here listening to the birds chirruping outside. Don't know if they've noticed it's really quite dark indeed. Sparrows, blackbirds, martins and maybe the odd thrush, I think, judging by the birds I seen regularly in the garden. We also have a lot of pigeons and crows but I know what pigeons and crows sound like and the high-pitched chirruping outside my window definitely doesn't contain any cooing or squawking.
Anyway, work is over. I'm home, it's hot and sunny and I'm sheltering inside with the window open, musing on how well I slept last night - spring heat, open windows and blankets apparently make the perfect combination.
I had an odd dream the other night, Sunday night, I think. A fully-fledged space opera, complete with world-weary freighter space captain and a spaceship that was a high school and there was even an outdoors activity centre with a swimming pool on a planet. Part of me was amazed at the detail of this world inside my head. Part of me was a little horrified because... Two ships, one a big ugly cross-Channel ferry-like passenger spaceship, one presumably housing this high school. Umm... these two ships, remote-controlled from the planet surface below, by the world-weary captain and one of the schoolgirls... the two ships had sex. Not the two people, the two spaceships, by remote control. I don't even know what my brain thought it was doing. I can't even justify this as them being living ships, like Farscape's Moya. They weren't. They were soulless, ugly metal spaceships.
My immune system is still playing am-I-amn't-I with me. I've been fine for several days now but it had me all full of cough this morning and feeling really unnaturally hot for a bit. That's gone again now. It teases me.
I bought some new glasses when I was going through a phase back in the autumn. That was when I discovered the concept of coloured overlays and lenses. I used the overlays for a while but I've stopped now and I don't think I'm any worse without them. But I had vague intentions of getting coloured lenses, so I bought some cheap glasses from the internet. And it would be foolish to spend that amount of money on getting them coloured, especially when I don't think I need them now, so they've gone into circulation as normal glasses. I didn't bother with the anti-reflection coating, all it seems to do is attract fingerprints but... actually, I've had it for so long that I'm struggling with these ones because they do reflect things. And they're not fitted to my face. I have quite a small head and glasses tend to be too big. That's why black-framed ones, even relatively delicate ones, always look ludicrous on me. And it's why they all have to have their arms bent in peculiar ways, to try and keep them on my ears. They've been slipping off all weekend and it's driving me crazy.
I have taken advice and am watching Boardwalk Empire. Can't put my finger on why but I'm quite enjoying it. Only two episodes in but I've got four sitting waiting to be watched later. Generally, if I'm not in a series at the beginning I don't bother, it's too much effort and commitment and just takes too much time to catch up (see my unwatched Battlestar Galactica boxset) but this is only twelve episodes. I'm still very much having trouble keeping who's who straight - I mix up Nucky and Jimmy occasionally at the moment and there's still a lot of people I haven't learnt to recognise yet. Hopefully I'll get there.
As well as that, I've finally picked up a book that I'm really enjoying - oh, I can see its faults, both in story and in style, but it's fun and that's all that's important, frankly. Black Lung Captain by Chris Wooding. I'm not going to pretend that it's fine literature. But stories are stories.
Speaking of which, I've spent the last ten days feeling vaguely that April would be a great time to knuckle down on the books I'm trying to write. The Sequel just isn't as much fun as the original Big Book Project. I don't know if that's because I've got something of a plot laid out, whereas the original was total "throw everything I can dream of in there and we'll sort it out later!". I don't know if it's because I'm trying to shoehorn in a couple of new characters who just aren't gelling or if it's suffering from lack of Nat but it's a pig to write. I love Alex and Joey. I love this brotherly/motherly relationship they seem to have slipped into. They're poppets. I guess the real problem is that Joey is coming across as a nerd who'd rather be on his computer and neither of them seems particularly good at the secret agent bit. Arrggh. Boys!
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I have got a drawing pin stuck in my hand (not "I have got" as in "right now there is a-" but in the sense of the past tense of got). It hurt. I now remember that injections hurt. I'd convinced myself that they don't really hurt and my phobia of them is simply of the phobic of them itself, that if I look at it or talk about it or think about it I will faint/throw up but actually, something sharp being poked into you does hurt and it's not so unreasonable to be petrified of that.
I had a giggle at myself today as well. Parked next to another Panda at Tesco, giggled for being so childish as to do that and then promptly had hysterics because that Panda was parked behind another. We looked like a little Panda convention out there.
In a bit I shall go and see my mentor, who came to observe Rangers last week and who this week shall go through my qualification and sign everything off.
I have cut my nails. I bit them until I was fourteen or so, then stopped literally overnight. A few of them had got ludicrously long and full of what I call faultlines and my thumbnails were so long I could hardly do anything - earrings are impossible and I started having trouble doing up my necklace, so they're all cut back a bit and filed and I'm going to keep filing them regularly so they don't get weak and break and actually make some kind of vague effort to look after them.
So the only problem with my day is being shattered. I wish I could get used to going to bed before midnight and staying asleep all night but it's not working at the moment. I can't seem to make myself go to bed early enough and if I do, I can't get to sleep. The heating isn't working properly, so I have to sleep with the duvet over the blankets and it feels like... well, to say it feels like it's crushing me would be melodramatic but I'm definitely more comfortable with only the blankets. However, just blankets is too cold. So I never feel good in the morning and by the end of the day I'm ready to come home and crash. But my moods are ok which is a good thing.
In the meantime I am rewatching All the Small Things. I love Olive. (And Jake, obviously).
And finally, the pasta I've just eaten is expressing its displeasure at me having eaten it. Some of us never learn.
Then I came home at lunchtime to find Keith Chegwin's opened his mouth again and unleashed his band of bullies and may have lost my temper sufficiently to have a go back...
Luckily, this afternoon was ok and then the fans were out in full support of Ed when I got home so now I'm just tired and just want a bath. Except that my Rangers have just texted and they're not coming tonight. But I've still got a 25 mile round trip because census is due next Tuesday and I need the Guide leaders to sign the cheque because I'm not a signatory yet. But still, I should have time for a bath tonight. And then an early night for I really do notice the difference almost immediately when I'm tired.
I wrote another 500-ish words of The Sequel - Joey's at it again, surprising me, doing things I never intended him to. When Alex takes matters into his own hands he just tends to get grouchy and scared. Joey is apparently coming down with a cold. I don't think a bit of sniffing and sneezing is going to have too much impact on the story but even so... damn you, Joey.
I have done a mischief to my right knee. No idea how. It doesn't hurt unless I put my weight on it. Even poking it with my fingers doesn't work. I did exactly the same thing last year to my left knee. It concerned me a bit at the time because it was quite shortly before I was heading off to snowboarding at Altitude but it sorted itself out. To this day I know neither what I did to injure it in the first place or what happened to make it better the very week I happened to need it functional. So I assume the same thing has happened to the right knee now and that it also will stop hurting sooner or later. In the meantime, if I need to kneel or crawl, I use my left leg.
Intending to go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight. I've got into the terrible habit of staying up until 12.30/1am and then of course, being an early bird by nature, I'm exhausted in the morning. Bed as soon as parents turn off the TV which is on the other side of the wall but still only six feet away from my ears. And they're thin walls. There's a line in Friends "if you can recognise it through a wall, you know it too well!" I can recognise a lot of things through the wall. I generally know exactly what they're watching and I don't have to have seen it too may times to do it.
I have vague plans of running. At the moment, I don't run. I've never been a runner. For a while I was moderately less-than-appalling at high/long jump but it was a short while and it was definitely only less-than-appalling. But I quite fancy attempting to run. I live behind a big field, I have a pair of trainers suitable for running somewhere in the house and I'll start small and gentle. One minute jogging, one minute walking. That's a variation on Scout's Pace. Then I can either gradually take it up a step or abandon the ludicrous idea. I have quite muscular legs, a legacy of going to a school that was effectively split between two sites and required a five minute walk from one site to the other between lessons, usually with a long-legged friend who walked too fast for comfort. That and Duke of Edinburgh and being a Guide. Running would help stretch the tendons in my ankles too, which would help when I go snowboarding because having my feet immobilised in boots and then walking up a hill half a dozen times in quick succession gives me cramps, generally in my right leg only. This sometimes results in trying to get the boot off in a panicked hurry to stretch and rub the offending leg. (I occasionally have a tendency to panic when something gets stuck on my feet or in my hair. This is ludicrous, I know. I'm more likely to freak out if my laces are in a knot than at any other time. Ridiculous).
So yes, running. Goodnight.
I'm feeling a little better now. Back in my own bed (my parents' bed for some reason is much better for anti-pain naps), I've had some painkillers, I've watched Primeval and Russell Howard's Good News. Now I'm just plain tired. I went out with the girls from work yesterday, to a murder mystery evening. We got back late, my mind had been set going far too fast and it was reluctant to slow down and it also decided it needed to see the Graham Norton Show before I could sleep. I put the computer down and fidgeted for an hour and hovered on the edge of sleep and then gave up, hoisted the laptop back up. Fine, brain. You win.
And then, having not got to sleep until nearly 3am, my brain decided to wake me up by 8. Properly awake. Not the sort of half-awake that compels me to push back the heavy duvet so as to be able to get at the radiator better at 6am but properly now-I'm-awake-I-should-get-up sort of awake. I didn't get up. I listened to the radio on my phone instead, having had to first go downstairs to fetch the thing. Then I got dragged to town, dragged to the bank to get Dad's name taken off my bank account and then had to remain until Sister had finished shopping. I bought The Heroes by Joe Abercrombie and I'm looking forward to finishing Best Served Cold.
( Ireland trip planning )
I'm tired. I missed a lot of sleep last night and although I had a nap this afternoon, I've still several hours to catch up on. But first, Primeval.
( Musings on Primeval series four. )
I went to bed fairly early last night, slept really well and really late. Well, I sort of woke up about 8.25ish, which is the time I drag myself out of bed during the week but stayed in bed dozing for another hour, picked up my laptop, played on that for a bit and then put it down and curled up again. I didn't get up until Mum came in at just after 11 which I know isn't late for some people, especially on a Saturday but it is for me. Or it used to be. Pre-laptop, I would get up about 6.30/7am every day without fail. Now I'm catching up on years of lost sleep. But I've felt so much more lively today for the extra sleep.
Sister's Useless Boyfriend (hereafter UB) arrived thirty seconds after I dragged myself out of bed. I like him. You wouldn't tell from listening to the two of us - it's a two-way stream of constant insults and rudeness. Mum says I treat him like the brother I never had. I mean, yes, he's useless and he's not interested in anything beyond Nintendo but, y'know.
We went shopping, I found another duck - really must get out my entire collection and count them one day - and bought some new toothbrushes and some orange juice for work and we bought ingredients for Rocky Road, then came home and watched Scott Pilgrim. Well, I only half-watched it. Then we bulled UB into letting us watch some of the extra features and damn, I'd forgotten exactly why I used to have a fairly big crush on Edgar Wright. Isn't he lovely? I mean, physically he's My Type - the smallish guy with longish unruly hair and a great thick streak of geeky passion. He also works far too long and doesn't sleep enough, so he has a tendency to exhaustion, headaches and colds which tends to bring out my otherwise-hidden caring side and make me go "Aww, poor poorly baby!" And I've never heard anyone say a bad word about him (I've seen plenty of criticism of his manic directing style, on the other hand) and he just seems to be a really nice person. I like Edgar Wright a lot.
At Rangers this week we did some Fimo modelling. I made another little dragon to add to my collection but he only got baked this afternoon and then I sat and painted him with three coats of varnish while watching the film. I will take a photo of my Fimo dragons tomorrow. They're cute.
UB had also brought Toy Story 3 but I can't watch it. I have a ridiculously sentimental streak in which even the idea of it makes me very nearly cry, and a discussion of Toy Story 3 and Mr Magorian's Wonder Emporium had me with tears in my eyes this morning, without even watching either of them. (We watched Mr Magorian on Christmas Day a couple of years ago. I really don't know what it is about it, or what was wrong with me that day, but I cried my eyes out for hours. I've never done that before or since. I just couldn't stop it. Stupid things make me cry.)
Then when we'd finished with Scott Pilgrim, we made Rocky Road, then watched Total Wipeout and Primeval and then UB and Sister played Goldeneye on Wii. I have a problem with video games. I'll have a go and not be very good, because I'm not used to the controls but people won't give me the chance to get used to it. It's always "Look, look, watch me, this is how you do it." Oh great. Three hours of watching you drive a virtual car/shoot people/play golf. Jess is particularly bad for this. I want to enjoy it, I really do but it's not something that comes naturally to me and no one's willing to be patient with a beginner. (Arcade Soul Caliber, however, I'm awesome at. We used to go to the arcades above one of the bars when I lived in Switzerland and I would annihilate my two friends there.)
And when he'd gone, I retreated back to bed and laptop, which is where I am now, waiting to feel sleepy enough to go to bed. I've had a very enjoyable day. Goodnight.
Every morning this year, my alarm has gone off at 8 and it's been at least 8.25 before I've got myself into some state of sufficient consciousness to try getting out of bed, so at least I've been properly awake this morning. On the other hand, I feel about as groggy as you might expect of someone who's now been awake for 24 hours. Am revising my plans to go snowboarding tonight. Home, bath and bed tonight, I think.
Shouldn't be on the computer now. I'm trying to limit internet after 9pm - means I haven't really seen my computer this week - and instead am devouring books. I read 28 books in 2010. As of 9.13pm on January 6th, I have read Harry Potter 1, 2, 3 and 4 and six chapters of Harry Potter 5 which I only picked up at lunchtime today. I should be reading it now but I sort of fancied a little bit of internet for a change. Bad insomnia at the beginning of the week but was ok last night - perhaps the lack of bright computer before bed beginning to kick in. But I'm fairly sure I had two odd dreams this morning after my alarm had gone off. I woke up just enough to shut the thing up before going back to the dream, two or three times. Really didn't want to wake up this morning. I didn't get out of bed until 8.25. My work starts at 9am. I cut it a little fine.
Mood-wise, today has been better. Today I'm winning. And I finally sent Silver's box off to him. Did you know BFPO (at least to active war zones) is limited to 2kg per parcel? Silver has a packet of sherbet lemons waiting for him at home. And some baby wipes although I'm sure he can live without those. And did you know sending them is free? I didn't know this. I may have given the nice lady at the post office a bewildered look as I was waved away without paying anything.
I want to do a daft holiday again. Last year's were great - I went snowboarding in the Alps, I went to Zurich and I went to the Lake District but I didn't do a "in three weeks I'm going.... here!!", the "here" in question being somewhere people don't often want to go. I want to throw a dart at a map of Europe. But if I'm keeping the spirit of spontaneity, I've either got to wait until nearer the time or plan it for the end of January. January is cold. I want to go around around the end of March but it looks like something has come up. The middle of April might be good except that it's school holidays. Maybe the first full week of April then, around the 6th to 11th-ish.
Sorry to ramble. I'm sitting on a radiator, with a dose of chocolate inside me, a diary at my left hand and a laptop in front of me. It's a good evening.
I've had insomnia every night this week. And it's the sort that gives me the itches and the twitches and means I can't even lie there and stare at the ceiling and daydream, except about cutting off my legs. I've always had what I now know is called Restless Leg Syndrome. I also know that my version of it is pretty mild but it's really flared up this week and it's driving me crazy.
It's cold, so I have to sleep with the duvet over me because much as I love them, my blankets aren't quite warm enough and being cold keeps me awake too. Every night, either the laptop or the phone comes out to keep me company until my legs and brain decide they're bored with tormenting me, generally not until gone 3am.
I hate it. Lack of sleep, fairly obviously, makes me tired. Tiredness makes me moody and miserable and throws me into a spiral of self-hate, misery, loneliness and the feeling that I'm a waste of atoms. Sleeping cures the tiredness which makes massive improvements in the misery.
I hate not being able to sleep.
( My thoughts on Top Gear in the Middle East, Three Men Go to Scotland (and sailing), tonight's TV and last night's insomnia )
Then the snow/ice was hard to walk on and my footchains fell off within twenty yards and I was running late and then really really angry. Then Boss's Feisty Mother came in, also in a bad mood and that just made me worse.
And then skipping breakfast because I didn't have time for it this morning and then lunch because I was at work (I don't like eating at work, particularly when there are other people in the kitchen, even if they're nagging me to eat and saying there's hardly anything of me) finally caught up with me this afternoon. My hypos tend to happen because I've eaten something, not because I haven't but I was vaguely aware of feeling a bit light-headed and confused and when the Chief Accountant asked me to copy an email to [Name], I asked "Is that our [Name] or their [Name]?" and she said "I don't think they've got a [Name]..." (They meaning one of our suppliers). I decided not to bother saying "Yes they do, and so have [Other Supplier], they're everywhere!" and I'm glad I didn't say it because ten minutes later, it dawned on me that she was absolutely right and what on Earth was I thinking? And that was the second "what was I thinking?" moment in ten minutes. I just couldn't think straight at all. Definitely time to go and have some sugar before I tried to carry on with any more work.
And then, the Chief Accountant's husband came to pick her up when the office closed early and she was taking other people back too and although in all truth, I would probably have refused, it would have been nice to be offered a lift, since there are a tiny handful of us who live very near each other and I'm one of them!
And I'm tired because kidney stones mean Dad's up every ten minutes during the night and he woke the resident insomniac and I was then awake for two hours in the middle of the night and I these days, tiredness kicks me the very next day, instead of the day after like it used to.
But now I'm home early and I'm going to have something to eat and I'm already feeling a lot more cheerful.
I'm sorry I've been miserable again the last couple of days. Life. People. This is a war and every day is a battle and I can't win every battle. Sometimes maybe I'll be sad, sometimes I'll be frustrated, sometimes I'll be upset. I've lost a couple of battles this week but I still think I'm winning the war.
I didn't sleep well last night. I've spent most of the last week working on the profit & loss account at work and every time I closed my eyes, I just saw my bed as a series of twelve boxes and I didn't know what numbers to put in them. Then I'd open my eyes and tell myself my bed is my bed, it's just one thing and it's right here but... eyes closed, back come the boxes. The surrealness of it stopped me getting too upset with it. Imagining some loving boyfriend making me warm and comfortable and giving me drinks and rubbing away my headache was nice but if anything, made it harder to get to sleep. (I have a cold. Just a lovely ordinary one with a bit of added headachiness for the fun of it, nothing like the flu bug from hell I had in October. No sneezing or coughing, just a misbehaving nose and mild lingering headaches. It's so nice to be back to ordinary non-miserable illness!)
Another thing that made me happy today was my boss. I generally give the impression that I hate him. I'm not keen on him; he's capricious and unpredictable and frequently moody but quite often he's in a good mood and sometimes he's just weird. We've got a water machine which used to be up in the main office but on his orders was moved yesterday to reception (Stupid place to put it. Walk all the way to the front door for a cup of water?!). It's just a stand that holds up a massive 9l bottle of water and you can have it room temperature or icy-cold. Anyway, he was talking to his Feisty Mother on the phone last night. Conversation went as so:
Boss: I'm a bit worried about where you've put the water machine.
Mother: [Boss], I didn't put it there. It was your orders to move it.
Boss: Well, I'm a bit worried about where it is. People might pee in the bottles.
...I don't even know. Have I mentioned that he's weird?
This is my elephant table, by the way. He's cracked on the tabletop and on one of his ears but he's still adorable. Even Mum likes him; says the cracks add to his character. There were half a dozen elephant tables but I fell in love with the cracked one. He's going in my house one day. I was going to make a winter project of him, try to repair the cracks, clean him up etc but I'm not going to. He's cute enough how he is.
( My elephant table )Isn't he cuuuuute?
Now the pressure's off, I'm going to start playing with Alex and Joey again. I want 100,000 words of serviceable Draft Zero of The Sequel by the end of March and as of the end of NaNoWriMo I had just under 31,000. I'm very fond of my boys.
I've got the house to myself for a few hours tonight so I've got a blanket and some cheesy biscuits and I'm watching Zemanovaload, which I haven't seen for far too long. I like it. It's a good-hearted film and I genuinely can't decide whether my favourite thing about it is Ed Byrne, all short spiky hair and dark eyes and shirts over bright-coloured t-shirts, or the soundtrack. I may picspam this film at some point.
For now, I'm warm and sniffly and contented. I think I'm winning today.