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Dear Diary

A 3680-post collection

Valentimes!

Yes, I spelled that intentionally.

It's that time of year when the marketing push turns to love. Buy chocolates for the one you love. Buy flowers for the one you love. Buy this, buy that, show them you love them with...

Diamonds, flowers, gold, silver, wine, five-star dining, cars... they will attempt to equate money with love. That's because money can be reduced to numbers and that fits well with being able to quantify stuff.

Thing is...

I don't got the money for all that stuff. Beloved isn't into flowers or that much jewellery. We don't imbibe wine. Five star dining costs more than I've got and is likely too far away from where we are anyhow.

There's no movies we immediately want to see.

In brief, there's little I can do for my Beloved. Not a lot I can do to show them I love them. So... my plan is more or less to give them my most precious commodity - my time.

Don't spend your money this valentimes. Spend your time.

My usual bullshit returneth

There's a meme on tumblr of a photoshopped etching that originally warned of communism, but is now... somewhat improved. Instead of the original caption, the spectre of Death now carries a giant scroll that reads, Lord help me, I'm back on my bullshit.

[Image of the very meme of which I spoke]

My bullshit is succumbing to assorted temptations instead of paying attention to what I should be doing for my own gorram good. Like... learning Java, CSS, how to do this

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So I fucked up. Again

I'm busy trying to be rational towards my anxiety, and it's not exactly working. I've made mistakes with my narrative choices before. It should be no big deal.

Except...

Except I've done this twice in the space of one month and I'm normally more careful about this kind of thing and, like the impending speeding ticket in the red tape stage of landing on me, I'm afraid this will somehow wreck my life plans.

Screwing up stories by saying things sideways or

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Cheevs?

I think I've plateau'd with adding flavour text to Faxephoun. At least, I have little idea of what to do next for that particular daydream. I need to do some research about building D&D worlds and modules. Set some stuff on stone and all that yadda yadda.

Yes, I am aware that this is ambitious as hell. Aim high, at least you don't shoot yourself in the foot.

My next side-project will likely be diddling about with RPG Maker if

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Fucking Anxiety at it Again

Whenever I try something big-for-me, there's always that spike of utter, abject terror that ends up with me hurting myself in strange and interesting ways.

For instance, yesterday I spilled hot soup on myself.

I wasn't hungry (warning sign) so I made myself a big ol' undertow mug of chicken stock broth. In the process of transferring the cup from the electric kettle stand to the bench where I planned to stir in the cream, I bumped the mug against the edge

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I did it!

I sent Adapting off and now the waiting game begins. The last potential publisher gets to wait until July or the other lot gets back to me, whichever happens first. They are my last, best hope (help me Obi-Wan Kenobi...). One gets back in 30 days, so word by the 12th of March or they don't want me. Their loss.

But I did it. I was brave and sent off the files they demanded. Yay me. Now I have most of an

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Progress?

I know where the problem is with Gears of Spud - the nebulous idle clicker I was concocting. I need to make a CSS style sheet so the layout is cemented.

Which means that my next goal-oriented HAM days are going to have "Learn CSS" on there. What it is, how to use it, how to make sure it doesn't muck up. That sort of deal.

I do know it's a way to include HTML into whatever doesn't use it, so I

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Another Full Day

I got a lot to do, of course. Another unfuckening of the house. Another Instant. Another 500 words. Another TAZ flash fanfiction.

Maybe I really am writing like I'm running out of time. Given the way the world is increasingly funked up, headed for assorted disasters - do you blame me?

I only have this life and I'm past my family average halfway point. Barring accidents and whatnot, I have my own lifetime left. Less than that.

If nothing else, I should

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New Habits to Forge

Obviously, I'm still getting used to the new focal range, especially when working on my computer. Having to turn my head more to pay special attention to things is... awkward. I'll get there in the end.

I have figured out that if I want to watch television whilst falling asleep, I have to swap over to my old formula. Things be blurry, but not too blurry to see and understand things up there. Good enough for now. Future-proofing that plan may be

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Back on the Wagon

Beloved is continually tempting me with treats on weekends. I succumbed to temptation and got a caramel-sugar sundae the other day.

Yesterday? Didn't have too much at all. I've fallen more or less into the habit of having one meal a day, with the occasional allowance for snackadoos.

My usual meal is one steak with an option for camembert and figs1 or my pickled strawberries and mascarpone if the steak in question is beef. For pork steak, I eat more of

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One Day, a Difference

I'm currently involved in an email debate with someone over my hurting rich people's feelings with a few words versus their ability to literally ruin everything. I will continue to call out the wealthy for their bad choices until they make a whole fuckton of good ones to prove me wrong.

Like, on the Wealthy People Agenda of things they could be doing but choose not to:

  • Demonetize the medical industry
  • Pay all employees a thriving wage
  • Promote and employ alternative energy
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Fun Was Had

The adventuring party is on the cusp of a TPK because we're being zerg rushed by a bunch of demons. It's not looking good.

My throat is sore, I'm currently existing on less than five hours' sleep, and I can not sleep.

Plus I just got a comment on a recent story via my Wordpress, which is a fairly odd angle to approach things, but I'm willing to extend the benefit of the doubt. It's difficult to derive a complete story out

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Burning at Both Ends Again

I give myself too many projects when I'm bored. Then I run out of time to do them because I overcommit to things. Then I burn out and get depressed and don't do any firkin thing.

It's a cycle. I'm trying not to ride it downhill this time around.

HAM only works when you have uninterrupted half-hours to do things. It's great for my day structure when there is no structure. When I gotta organise myself around other shit... it's not so

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Early to Rise...

Apparently I can't sleep past 4AM and today I plan to make that work for me. As you might have guessed, my Patreon and Wordpress content are missing so far this week and I aim to remedy that lack.

I hope.

I've already spaced out for half an hour over Tumblr's terrible decision to go high contrast and give their user base headaches. Way to go, guys. Another terrible decision in an unbroken chain of terrible decisions.

I swear to fuck, I'm

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Crosswired Again?

I remembered... then forgot... that today was the Cleaning day. On the plus side, I got all my writing done in good time. On the minus side... I spent a majority of the day fretting about the cleaning.

I'm not up to doing anything on my pet projects, yet and that's okay. Working out my time windows is part of the process. Re-enforcing HAM is definitely part of it because fretting about time is one of my biggest ways to waste time.

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