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real life

A 3609-post collection

Slowed Right Down

The internet is especially shit, this morning, and for a change, neither I nor my beloved little darlings are at all responsible. No, dear readers, it is none other than my Beloved and their laptop.

If this continues for more than a couple of days, I get to taunt them.

[cue evil chuckle]

The end of the month and Erastide are coming up. Which means that real soon now, we could have us some NATIONAL BROADBAND! Just in time for the US of A to restrict the interwebs to a slow trickle so that broadcast companies can make lots of money.

This is not going to end well.

The internet was designed to confound a nuclear firkin holocaust. A few money-grubbing idiots aren't going to hold the "fast lanes" for long. They'll become the worst-kept secret on the internet. How to get into the fast lane without even paying.

It'll be phone phreaking all over again. You watch.

Fun 'n' PLNs

We're going to go see A Wrinkle in Time, today. This afternoon, to be precise.

Unlike yesterday, when I was surprised by a trip to go see Pacific Rim and the results left my story unposted until the afternoon. Sorry about that. I was only planning to binge some stuff I'd left unwatched for a good while.

So today, I have a time window to get everything decent done. And of course I'm procrastinating. Yay.

But I'll get on with it now.

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Screw That for a Gag

I have had duck tape on my feet for two frelling weeks because warts, and I just took it off to discover that it's either:

a) Pure Hokum
b) Only for warts on other areas

I looked up guaranteed wart cures and the duck tape was the only one to turn up in multiple areas. And the science seemed sound. Suffocate the skin in a specific area like -say- a bandaid left on too long, and the skin blisters and sloughs off

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Now What?

Mayhem's home sick, all my meal plans went... "okay". As in, the food got et, so that was good.

I let Chaos fly the deep fryer, under supervision of course. And when I was certain she could handle it... my dear sweet darling child undercooked everything. Sigh.

Trotted out the tired old, "You didn't have time to do it properly, but you have time to do it again?" routine and finished the cooking in regulated bursts. Which seemed to work for Miss

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Ooof

So I woke up at one in the morning again. Aka: fuckoff AM. What followed was a rough morning and maybe a couple of disturbed naps.

So I'm anticipating one hell of a day, today.

On the plus side, my wrists are already improving, now that I'm no longer pushing myself to write more than I should. Yay there. And I'm having some pig fat tonight.

We got some nice pork belly thawing today, and we'll be figuring out how to deep

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I got this

Okay. So we're agreed that I need more fats. We also know that fat from a dead pig is something I can actually eat and digest without any kind of trouble.

You know, aside from absolute fucktons of cheese, cream, and mascarpone. Which I can't eat a lot of anyway.

So I have to keep an eye out for fatty hunks of dead pig. Despite my ethical quandary about consuming dead pig. And my Beloved is also doing the same.

But I

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Rest and Reconfiguration

I still can't write 1K words a day without hurting myself in the long term. Beloved insists that it's because I don't get enough fat in my diet and they might be right.

The only animal fat that I find (a) delicious and (b) easily-digestible is none other than pork fat. Which, as you might guess, is hellishly expensive. Other than that, I get my fats from Mascarpone, butter, and a hellfuck load of cheese.

Beloved criticises my daily fare as "lean"

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Catching up... slow style

You know, it's a good thing I was thirteen weeks ahead on writing Clockwork Souls [because shiny plotbunny] because it means I can pull shit like:

  • Devote my work hours to the book that should be finished already
  • Let the book I'm already working on go hang, and thus
  • Let my poor, flaring wrists fucking heal for a change.

I'm never letting this happen again, by the way. The instant a novel is finished, a raw copy goes onto my Drobo. Y'know.

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No more unsuitable food

I am honestly trying, but temptation is a bitch.

Mayhem didn't want to come to Lone Star with us, alas. So he not only missed out on some R I D I C U L O U S serving sizes and free peanuts, but he also missed out on going to see...

Tomb Raider

What up!

It was on, we were there, and Chaos got in to see an M-Rated movie that did not have an obligatory sex scene. Not even a

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Ow...

My wrists are giving me two colours of hell. Today is Friday. Usually, the day I write a thousand words in my novel and congratulate myself on a job well done.

Thing is...

I've been writing a thousand words a day for four days in a row. No wonder my wrists frelling hurt.

So I shall focus on my thousand words today, and do the catch-up with Rael on the weekend.

And definitely focus on a minimum of one day of not

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Pump the Brakes!

Okay. So. This autumn season combined with the novel recovery efforts have made writing a literal pain. Fun.

It's okay if I take it slowly. I pause when my wrists start that low warning ache. Find something else to do.

I'm not going to power through it. That noise leads to worse pain and me laying up for who-knows-how-long with all sorts of medical intervention. Been there, done that, and it's amazing that I don't have lingering scars from the bracers.

Don't

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Awake at last...

But my head is full of kittens and one (1) disco ball.

For anyone who can't decant that into rational sentences: I'm as distractible as FUCK, today.

My brain is everywhere, today. Setting up for things that I may or may not do. Getting distracted by EVERYTHING much like this comic I made once upon a time.

The plus side is that I'm awake enough to do all the things.

The bad side is that I'm too distracted to focus on any

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I do NOT know what this is

I'm tired all the time. Just behind my eyes. The rest of me seems to be awake and full of energy -hell- I woke up at like 1:30 AM [aka "Fuckoff O'Clock"] and try though I might, I could only snatch an hour's more sleep.

It could be asymptomatic lurgi. It could be the seasonal Thing getting to me in new ways. It could be a deficiency of something wearing away at me like nobody's business.

And my hip has decided

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Blurgh

So I just... zonked, yesterday. Passed out. Had a major nap-nap. Whatever you call it, I overdosed on sleep. And the good news is that I needed that.

The bad news is that I was still able to sleep for a majority of the night and my bod is like "more!" Also, I didn't get even one word in on Rael over the weekend.

It's cool. I'll make myself do some today. Monday to Friday are my gotta-work days.

The other bad

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Black Panther is GOOD

Go see it. Loads of amazing visuals, actual thought going into the scenery. Loads and loads of Africa-is-not-a-desolate-dustbowl stuff. It's beautiful.

That said, it passed the Bechdel test in the last five minutes, almost as an afterthought.

We even had the Tokens turned on their heads. Token 'good guy' white man to balance out the token 'bad guy' black man who works with the heel-face-turner actual baddie of the second and third acts. And it is nice to see the white man

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