lunesque

Officially updating my resume and looking for a new job.

Manager N told me today to watch out for Manager T, whom I have been having problems with since he came to the Conway store from the Little Rock store, and said that he went to our district manager and told her that I wasn't doing my job.

I don't even.

So there's that.

Damn. Writing is so freaking hard. D:

Why, when writing with lady_krysis, can we vomit out 60,000 words in six days but when I'm trying to write a story by myself, I have exactly five words on the page? UGH.

Today I baked a Hummingbird Cake, which has cinnamon and smushed bananas and crushed pineapple. It smells lovely. There's a part of me that's like, jeez, I should make one of these for myself, but then I remember I still have half an apple pie that I baked, and it would be pointless for me to bake another cake for myself because I would have one piece and then it would just sit in the fridge for two weeks until I threw it out, all the while mourning how it had been a good cake and I should've eaten more of it. IDK.

I need to really, really work on the beta for my Losers story, but I'm just so blah about everything. Blah seems to be my default mood for the last year. I feel like I'm about to edge into another one of my depressive mood swings, which is just perfect for all the writing I'm not doing. I just have this all consuming weariness, this listlessness. I play a video game and put it down because I'm bored. I read a book and put it down because it's too much effort to hold it up. I write, and then think about how no one actually reads my writing anymore anyway and I lose all motivation. My stories suck because they're mine and I can't write. I can muster up enthusiasm when I'm with someone, but when I'm alone, I just sit and think what now?

Anyway, I baked a cake today. Go me.

Today I turn 30!

Birthdays kind of start to lose power as you get older, I think, and that makes me sad. I'm 30! It's a nice, round number. 29 was just awkward.

Today, I:

* was not allowed to sleep in, because Dad was like, I already gave you your present and it's time for laundry.

* got a free burrito from Taco Bell, because the manager likes us and it was her present to me.

* am going to hit 12,000 on the Thor/Loki story that I am not writing.

* watched anime and two (three?) episodes of a Korean drama because no one was here to rescue me from my father.

* am really annoyed at my cat, Alex, because she isn't using her scratching post at all and is also being an incredibly distracting nuisance.

* secretly looked at my zombie story. shhhh.

* am avoiding Tumblr because apparently the Teen Choice Awards were tonight? And the only person from the Avengers who got an award was Chris Hemsworth? AND I SO DO NOT CARE.

* am pretty sure I'm doing both birthdays and fandom wrong.

* turned in my resume for a job! You know, like I should have been doing for the last three months.

Also:

Saw The Dark Knight Rises. Hated Bane. Loved Catwoman. I also waxed fanatical to lady_krysis about Avengers vs X-Men. BECAUSE OMG ILLYANA RASPUTIN AND SCOTT SUMMERS YOU ARE MY FAVORITES EVER.

Btw, Captain Marvel is a really good first issue. I haven't cared very much for Carol because I'm not all that into the Avengers portion of the Mavel Universe (movieverse nonwithstanding) but it made me feel for her, and—made me want to go with her to see where she goes next.

Finally, I'm down to the last of my over-the-counter inhalers, which means I will have to officially go to the doctor sometime in August and confess to them that my breathing problems are actually way worse than they think they are so I can get an official prescription. This sucks. They'll also complain about my weight, I'm sure, although I actually weigh less now than I did three years ago. FML.

Ugh. Why does everything take so much effort for me now?

Like, seriously. I wake up, goof off on the internet for anywhere between half-an-hour to two hours, "write" with lady_krysis (in which she does a ton of writing and I skimp past with the minimum amount I can do before I pass it on to her) go to work, and then come home. Sometimes, I watch television (but I'm SO BEHIND ON EVERYTHING. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE NINE EPISODES OF SPN WAITNG FOR ME?)

Sometimes I read comics. Sometimes I hang out with dungeonmarm. Sometimes I play video games. And then I sleep. Wake up, and do the whole thing over again. Over and over.

I don't feel like I'm stuck in a rut or anything, after all, tons of people do stuff after they get off work. I'm just grateful I can leave and have dinner and pass out. Just. I'm not disabled, I'm neuro-typical, there's no reason why I shouldn't have the spoons to do things.

Okay, I'll admit it. I just can't write, and I haven't been able to write anything on my own for the entirety of 2011. I have fun talking about it and theorizing about it and fitting pieces (badly) together, but when it comes down to the actual writing of anything, I look at the page and want to die with how much I don't want to do it, with how much I suck. It's become this difficult, Sisyphean task.

Ugh. Just ugh. I hate everything. D:

You know, I dislike flaky people. I do. Today, for example.

I called my brother two weeks ago, and invited him over for video games and hanging out, since I haven't seen him before Mom passed. He said yes, which was awesome and all that stuff. I also texted Rick four times to remind them that I got off work at 4pm today, but any time after that I would be good to go. Rick said it was a-ok, and they would see me then.

Cue being 9pm. I text them, wondering if they're late, and Tommy calls, saying that they got busy and he wouldn't be coming over after all.

Which, you know, fine, whatever. But they didn't have the decency to tell me at five? Or six?

I feel very unwanted. :(

I've been sitting here in front of this journal screen for a while now, trying to figure out what the hell to say. I was really surprised when I looked through my last couple of journal entries and found out that I hadn't said anything at all, so--here goes.

Two weeks ago, my mom went into the hospital. It seemed like she was starting to get better, but two days ago, she started having seizures. We've officially placed her in hospice care yesterday. Now, we're just waiting for her to die.

I think, when I started to write this, that I intended to talk about our relationship, to try and wrestle with this situation, make it some sort of poetic essay, end it with something deep and profound, but I'm just so tired.

I'm not going to be there when she dies. But waiting for the call is just as hard.

R.I.P. Emily
Nov 2009-March 2011

You were a very beautiful plant. I rather adored you, and as you were a plant, that's saying very much. I even watered you two days ago.

WHICH IS WHY I'M STUNNED THAT ANTS WERE TRYING TO NEST IN YOUR POT.

You are a beloved casualty, but you will be avenged.

scheherezhad makes me want to own a lot of boots, even though I rarely wear them and have a crap wardrobe, so even if I wear good boots, I still look awful. Doesn't make me stop wanting these, though.