March 7
From my brain
Contents |
2009
Me 11:21, 7 March 2009 (EST)
Just really out-of-sorts this morning. Might be the pain meds, might be the lack of sleep, I don't know.
Stayed up really too-late last night. Was only midnight, which isn't bad for me on a Friday, but I really should have been to bed closer to 10pm. I stuck around a bit longer to help out a crew doing a throw-back run into Black Temple. It wasn't our typical run into Naxx on Fridays, but it was a nice change up.
Again, I should have went to bed earlier. I was well out of steam by 10:30, but kept sticking around because they were making good (albeit slow) progress, and I wanted to help them take out Illidan. Didn't come close to him though, and the leader for the night finally called it.
I went to bed and just passed out. I briefly remember waking up sometime before 7:30, but went back to sleep. When TheBoy walked in, I was already resolved not to go to the Y for TKD. Just wasn't gonna happen. I fell back asleep...but I feel like crap now.
We'll see how the rest of the day unfolds. As note: Percocet doesn't do jack for a headache.
2007
Me 07:22, 7 March 2007 (EST)
I think part of my problem lately is that I don't have any aspirations any more.
I used to love computers, but then I quit DeVry because I loved writing more. Then, the writing dried up within me, and I got a job which eventually went back to computers, and I loved the programming for a long time. I started to not care as much for that creative endeavor, and found cooking to grant me some joy. When then fizzled I went to... I don't know.
I know I love my family. They get me out of bed in the morning (literally and figuratively), but I have no drive toward anything anymore. My writing is sporadic at best, creatively dead at it's worse. The programming for work I've come to loathe, but I am finding a bit of "fun" in it while working on some add-ons for WoW. The cooking? When I do cook lately, it tastes the same as the writing is; sporadic good meals, but many more others that are bland.
Today the endocrinologist is due to call. Maybe all this is just hormone related. Then again, maybe the low hormones are just an easy excuse...
Me 12:07, 7 March 2007 (EST)
My fist may be bruised by tomorrow. I punched a door on the way out to lunch.
Wifey called. Due to the fact she's seeking another part-time second-shift job to replace her previous part-time second-shift job, unemployment is not going to pay her. In fact, we have to pay back the ~$300-400 they've paid her thus far.
Apparently you MUST seek a full time job with no restrictions in order to qualify for unemployment. And that's no restrictions. No shift preference, no preference on hours, not even "I can't work Sundays". You miss that criteria, no dice.
So, as I walked out to have Zejan buy me lunch, I punched the oaken doors leading to the lobby, most likely scaring the HELL out of our new admin assistant (I apologized on my return). I want to throw things. I want someone to pick a fight with me. I want to rip things apart.
I am Jack's clenched fist.
Me 13:03, 7 March 2007 (EST)
- Wifey: Which would you rather, we stay in this house, in this neighborhood and school, or, Mommy goes to work someplace during the day, and you go to a babysitter.
- TheBoy: I'd rather go to a different house.
{later}
- TheBoy: Do I get to keep my toys?...
- Wifey: Oh honey, we'd take everything except the stove and refrigerator.
- TheBoy: Oh good. Maybe someone else will get to keep that crappy stove!
I love my son.
