Dear Diary

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 or that or even getting back towards SESP like I keep gassing about.

My bullshit in the past has been taking on five million fragmentary ideas and never finishing one fucking thing ever. It's been sweeping into a new thing and forgetting to wind up whatever was going on with the old. It's been new toys and new obsessions and burying myself in firkin clutter that I'd take care of "later".

Yes. That bullshit.

Thanks to assorted shenanigans involving more solar panels and finally getting that powerwall that's been gas until this moment... the carport looks more like Tutankhamun's packrattus than anywhere we could plausibly fit a car. There's been some rubbish dumping going on and gorram it... we used to be nearly at the point where we could park a firkin car in there again.

The bedroom's getting like that, too. Beloved has just... not been putting their clothes away. I, too, have said 'fuck it' and left more than a few things lying around and I can see the goat trails returning and... refer to the above picture.

Procrastination is no longer my copilot. It's taken the wheel and shoved me in the firkin jump seat. Inertia's running copilot with the instant gratification monkey and I would so much rather be farting around having fun than actually working on anything and... yeah.

Back on my bullshit.

I might need a Capital-B Break from everything, but this is the worst time since publishers could see me being a slackarse right after I've told them I never firkin quit. Besides, we both know I'd never be able to stick to not-writing for very long. Hell, on one day when I got my TAZ flash fanfiction up super-early, I spent the afternoon pondering whether I should write a second one.

...whilst forgetting I had an entire unfinished fanfic I could be working on instead, or drafting my Trello notes for the upcoming Kingdom of Sand trilogy...

Indulging my temptations is not good for me. Neither is obsessing about everything that could plausibly go wrong. Knowing this doesn't stop me in the slightest, but at least I know when I'm sliding back into my bullshit.

That's gotta be worth something, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

A New Way

Master Mayhem is 17. In many places, that means he's expected to handle things for himself. Including himself. Therefore, I am no longer chasing him to be ready at a certain time. This is going to be interesting. My lovely little lad has ever been the type to ignore my warnings and then get smacked in the face with the consequences.

Just as an example: Mayhem has emerged from the bedroom and is now wandering the halls looking for his school bag.

Menu

A 3769-post collection

My usual bullshit returneth

So I fucked up. Again

Cheevs?

Fucking Anxiety at it Again

I did it!

Progress?

Another Full Day

New Habits to Forge

Back on the Wagon

One Day, a Difference

Fun Was Had

Burning at Both Ends Again

Early to Rise...

Crosswired Again?

A New Way