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Dear Diary

A 3771-post collection

Failed Day, Yesterday

I just wanted a relatively relaxed day with a chance to finish a thing or two and maybe play Fortnite with my Beloved until it made me sick.

Well... everything went firkin wrong on me. And in my experience, there is little in this world that is worse than the entire world going against you.

About the only thing that went right was finally and at last working out all the bugs in the Rabbit-hole scene for SESP. That thing has been a pain in my bunghole for what feels like an eternity.

I'm all caught up with the animation side of things, now I just need to draw a lot more. I need to make the butterfly animation and I need to make it look special and shiny and I'm going to have some "fun" with that.

First, I need a good heart to trace. Because my previous efforts have been... wobbly.

But before I have to do that, I have to at least finish the missing lineart for the 'dull' background in shot #6. Because I'm pedantic like that.

Today isn't looking any better. Beloved is still kicking up a stink about being asked to do their fair share in a home they also live in. They keep rubbing salt in my wounds and it doesn't help that some people keep telling me that I should be grateful for what I have.

Anxiety. Increased depression. Digestive issues caused by stress. Sleep issues caused by stress. And, oh yes. STRESS.

Yeah. Real fucking grateful for a whole heap of problems I wouldn't have if Beloved just... helped out when I asked them to.

It's not even the shitload of things I have to do on a daily basis. It's just putting their crap away in an orderly fashion. Not a huge deal, right?

Not according to my Beloved. Who says I should get a job so I can pay someone to do everything. Which is never going to happen because those services are only affordable by billionaires.

I never wanted to spew my bile up here, but thanks to people with opinions on my life and my feelings, I had to vent somehow or firkin crash my car because sudden crying jag. Thanks a fuckbunch for those opinions. I did not need them. At all. Call me stupid as much as you like, it will only accelerate the inevitable emotional breakdown.

What I need is solutions that will work. Sponsors. An actual firkin reply from that damned postal-only agency I sent my book to. Some actual TIME to go to all my other blogs and advertise my shit to everyone I can plausibly reach.

But no.

I get fucking arguments.

Trying not to vent some spleen

I want to be angry. I want to spew bile all over my screen. I want to yell and scream and rant and rave and write a lovely long poison pen piece right here and now.

But that wouldn't help a damn thing.

I know damn well that this feeling is going to boil off eventually. I want to get it out and get it over with, but that just spreads it around and makes things worse.

So. In cold and emotionless

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Slothful Saturday (and Sunday)

I take my leisure time seriously. As in, I don't intend to do very much that's productive. Or do very much at all.

Because I've firkin earned it because all the running around during the week.

I feel I've been pushing myself a little hard, lately. And since my single and only sponsor on Patreon has downgraded their pledge... I don't really know if that effort is worth it.

I mean, I haven't had the time to do hobby-writing of late. Maybe

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Run, Nutter, Run

Today in bullet points:

  • The people who were going to pick up the skip... haven't.
  • Brat run
  • Vinnies run
  • Shopping
  • Cleaning
  • Instant Story
  • 1000 words
  • Patreon posts
  • And trying to unfuck the animation in progress

I may need to get Beloved's help with the last one. I have shot #5 in the can, shot #6 is barrelling along at Warp 10. And all that's hanging me up is shot farging #4 not firkin working.

Time to run.

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Urgh

Much though I love the concept of Fortnite, this dying compy couldn't quite handle it and the game kept crashing. So I gave up on it.

Which meant that Beloved has been playing exclusively with their brother.

Which left me feeling out in the cold.

Which means that my depression has come back to fight with me.

FUN.

In the sarcastic sense of course.

Hope has arisen in the form of a patch which might mean that I can play too.

In

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Not a good day so far

Good news: Beloved managed to fit that rusty old BBQ into the skip. They requested that we pick up the scrattle from a nasty patch in the yard in return.

Bad news:

  • I cut my thumb on the first piece of metal I tried to pick up
  • There were so many road works on the way to Mayhem's school that we were nearly late despite taking off early
  • I almost accidentally shoplifted a chocolate bar during my mission to pick up brown
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Even Mor Busy

[AN: This was yesterday's slice of life that somehow didn't get published when I clicked "publish now". You can see why I didn't notice.]

Let's see now...

  • Brat run
  • Vinnies run
  • Fetch coconut balsamic
  • Prep dinner [done!]
  • Instant story
  • Blog [in progress]
  • 500 words
  • Patreon rewards
  • Next shot for SESP
  • Teacher interviews at Mayhem's school

...and absolutely NO time for myself, today.

Did get Beloved to promise to sort out the boxes in the kitchen hallway. I have my sights firmly on

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Almost there

There's just a few wood scraps waiting for their destiny in the skip. We got a majority of the sheer volumes of crap GONE.

Our yard no longer looks like a disaster zone. The patio concrete is firkin filthy, and that won't change any time soon. Sadly.

There's still mountains of Beloved's crap to deal with, but they're going to run out of excuses or get tired of my asking one day and just deal with it.

Or I could shove every

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Almost Unfucked

The double volume of the new, bigger skip has eaten the rubbish from the carport, the rubbish from the patio, and the dead trampoline that managed to break our reciprocating saw.

There's still a few specks of scrattle from the carport. Specks that are a meter by two meters of plate metal and weigh more than I can lift...

They're specks compared to the sheer, enormous volume of the other shit, okay?

In other news: I have a new game to occupy

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Slow-ish start

It's the weekend, and despite our best-laid PLNs to finish tidying up the yard rubbish, it's almost 11AM and my Beloved has yet to get out of bed.

Not that I'm enamoured of heavy lifting, per se, but I'd rather get the onerous stuff over with, you know?

But I have done my Instant first and I plan to nudge Beloved after I'm done with the advertising cycle.

Beloved's doing a three-day fast, starting yesterday. That's their pln. For the uninitiated, fasting

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I didn't wanna...

Didn't wanna get up, but I got up.

Didn't wanna organise the kids, but I organised them.

Didn't wanna get going, but I got going.

And now I don't wanna do the brat run, vinnies run, two hours of cleaning and unfucking, instant story, blast scheduling, one thousand words, and the Patreon stuff. But I gotta do it anyway.

This weekend promises to be some form of interesting. We have a bigger skip to fill and the shit scattered on the patio

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Mor busy

  • Brat run
  • Vinnies run
  • Doctor's appointment

And then I can get on with writing and animating SESP, drawing more SESP, and maybe even having some time to myself to fart around a bit.

I did get as far as some basic calculations using Quicktime and the time stamps and a lot of math. Today, I'll see how well that went.

The process for finding this out is:

  1. Export flash file
  2. Play flash file
  3. If perfect, stop, else goto 4
  4. Scream in anguish
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Relative lassitude

Completely forgot about a parental/teacher talk, yesterday. A process that involved me derping about it and then a mad dash up to Chaos' school to talk about stuff in relation to her education.

Since they're doing poetry and rhyming, I was able to sell Steam Powered Giraffe to one of the teachers there. I might be making some more fans, sometime soon.

It'll be so much fun to have someone to nerd out with.

Today, for a change, I have nothing

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More running around

This time, it's for me. I'm finally checking my blood for all lipids after literal months of procrastination.

Also getting medication.

After that, I have to find out what's happening with the skip, because the one that we got yesterday is already full.

And there's still literal piles of garbage in our yard.

I have no idea what we're going to do about that.

I am whittling down the things we're donating one load at a time during the brat run. If

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