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I sort of assumed that once the DWP shit was over with, things would be back to what passes for normal round here. It shouldn't surprise me that this is not in fact the case. Over the last few months the spoon (and cash) deficit had become so critical that everything in my life not absolutely necessary for keeping myself breathing and my dogs and cats healthy ground to a complete halt. My whole life's currently looking a bit like 1945 - I'm shaky and exhausted and have nearly no energy or resources, but there's so much I need to get done, and so much I badly want to throw away and rebuild from the ground up.
I've also come out in a horrid itchy rash all over my chest and neck. I've no idea if this is stress, a side effect of the new meds (my doctor's switched me from Seroxat to Zoloft) or something else entirely. Ibuprofen gel seems to be helping, or at least soothing it.
So bear with me please if I don't quite seem like myself for a little while yet.
* I need to clean. I need to clean EVERYTHING so badly. I need to throw away that manky mattress and equally manky futon and use my DWP backpay to buy a bed. i can't do that till I've cleaned. I'm trying to clean one thing every day and hope I can do it fast enough not to be continually overtaken by entropy. Yesterday I cleaned my microwave after an unwise decision to microwave chicken livers in an uncovered dish advanced it from merely "manky" to "unusably coated in overcooked pate". I feel unreasonably accomplished for having done so. Today I am cleaning my coffee machine, which has been peacefully growing mould since I stopped being able to afford real coffee some time in September. I'm really looking forward to real coffee again.
* I need to catch up with my writing and roleplay. The cast of thousands in my head are waking slowly as from a long hibernation, all of them want their stories told yesterday and many of them have pointy sharp body parts, collections of weapons and bad attitudes. My habitual partner incrime creativity has been incredibly kind, patient and supportive and really deserves some quality work or at least some bloody effort from me. She's not the one putting the pressure on; the pressure comes out of my gratitude, desire to please and sense of obligation, but pressure is pressure and writing is hard and not doing it for a period of months makes it so very much harder. Aiiiie.
* this would be a STUPID time to start a new writing project, and if I were doing it on my own I wouldn't have touched it with a 300-foot tentacle armoured against the vacuum of space. But this is a collaboration that I promised three people I value highly that I would be a part of, and I damn well will. I'll admit it was a near thing, but this morning's brainstorming session reminded me of how to turn my fear and broken parts to my favour, and now the enthusiasm's begun to take hold I'm feeling rather more confident. IT IS GOING TO BE AWESOME. ALSO, GIANT SPACE SQUID.
*that's all for now. Love you all.
I've also come out in a horrid itchy rash all over my chest and neck. I've no idea if this is stress, a side effect of the new meds (my doctor's switched me from Seroxat to Zoloft) or something else entirely. Ibuprofen gel seems to be helping, or at least soothing it.
So bear with me please if I don't quite seem like myself for a little while yet.
* I need to clean. I need to clean EVERYTHING so badly. I need to throw away that manky mattress and equally manky futon and use my DWP backpay to buy a bed. i can't do that till I've cleaned. I'm trying to clean one thing every day and hope I can do it fast enough not to be continually overtaken by entropy. Yesterday I cleaned my microwave after an unwise decision to microwave chicken livers in an uncovered dish advanced it from merely "manky" to "unusably coated in overcooked pate". I feel unreasonably accomplished for having done so. Today I am cleaning my coffee machine, which has been peacefully growing mould since I stopped being able to afford real coffee some time in September. I'm really looking forward to real coffee again.
* I need to catch up with my writing and roleplay. The cast of thousands in my head are waking slowly as from a long hibernation, all of them want their stories told yesterday and many of them have pointy sharp body parts, collections of weapons and bad attitudes. My habitual partner in
* this would be a STUPID time to start a new writing project, and if I were doing it on my own I wouldn't have touched it with a 300-foot tentacle armoured against the vacuum of space. But this is a collaboration that I promised three people I value highly that I would be a part of, and I damn well will. I'll admit it was a near thing, but this morning's brainstorming session reminded me of how to turn my fear and broken parts to my favour, and now the enthusiasm's begun to take hold I'm feeling rather more confident. IT IS GOING TO BE AWESOME. ALSO, GIANT SPACE SQUID.
*that's all for now. Love you all.