Sprints & Stumbles
Apr. 16th, 2021 11:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepnutgallerySuccess! I finally felt rested, energized...awake. One of those things you know you miss, but not how much until you get it back. And a good thing, too. Elaine had approved one of my substitutions, but the language she had us copy and paste made her signature slip over to the next page. Don't be mad, but this flummoxed me. Completely paralyzed. I didn't know if I should edit what she wrote, reduce the font and spacing, try a smaller font, change the formatting.....and I didn't know who to ask or how, and a Teams message felt like it would get ignored, an email felt too formal and directed. And I somehow mixed up offering two cases, one of which hadn't even been matched yet. Shouldn't I at least have been drunk so I'd have an excuse? When I asked Din how I should go about addressing the substitution, he just said I should adjust it. Right, but...how? Went back and forth a couple more times and I finally just flat stated I'd reduced the font, and if that was ducky, then ducky. If not, just tell me what to change and that's what I'll do instead. He said I should just adjust it. I screamed.
At the same time, apparently the Neighborhood social media landscape has a bit of a reputation for there being lots of trash to take out. This one almost got the best of me. Someone said a neighbor was scared of bats, trapped one that was in/near their house, sealed it in a zip lock bag, and tossed it in the dumpster. And wave after wave of filth was lining up to handwave it away. Fear, especially irrational fear, is simply no excuse for sadism. I couldn't physically murder these horrific, willfully ignorant people, since they weren't in front of me. But my fangs came out. I was probably venting. Obviously, scum speaking up *for* an animal abuser are going to be burnt to a cinder, but I was also taking out my frustration on them. About never quite being able to do enough, give enough, or get high enough. Some Karen had dug her heels in, insisting that because we don't have all the facts, we shouldn't report it. As bassackwards as that would be anyway, she became increasingly unhinged, and even engaged caps lock. "BITE ME WEENIE." I wouldn't touch her to scratch her, of course, but the venom in my fangs seems to have leveled up as well. She shrank back, stunned, told me to drop it or message her in private. It's worth noting as I look back that nowhere in there was an apology for obstruction of justice. But at the time, I stumbled. The victim card gives advantage on surprise attacks against me, and I would definitely have fallen prey to Kristin Gilles. Someone Thanked one of my censures, and I remembered these people are dross defending dross. The world will be better off without them.
After lunch, I finally managed to focus in and I got my definition of everything done. The substitutions were clunky and awkward as always, but I managed to find something of a rhythm with them. I finished the day with everything worked up, sent on, or sent out for my stuff, Kathy's stuff, and Kris's stuff. Monday should be a breeze. A Private Number called, and of course I thought it was Julian, but it was my trist. The connection was a bit off, but he laughed when I joked about running out of options for antidepressants thanks to my two requirements. Don't fuck up my sex drive, and don't fuck up my other emotions. There's like 3. Sleeping meds were kind of weird, because he seemed to shy away from sleeping meds and more towards things like trazodone, which is an antidepressant that just does a much better job at being a sleeping pill. I got both meds swapped out, so we'll see how we do.
The Private number called back, but this time it was Julian. We talked again about the trip, and how we're going to handle it. I'm nervous about it for no real reason I can point to. I can and will take time off for whatever needs doing, but I'm also aware that even normal people shouldn't necessarily do all the same activities on a vacation. And I told him to keep in mind that this is his San Diego vacation. My being here is bonus. He asked my hobbies, and of course I'm just getting to know them again myself. Games (board, video, RP...and sex), media viewing as an interactive activity, reading, discussing, dissecting, and analyzing......no, my real hobbies. Like running, or football, or hiking - outdoors hobbies. That put kind of a pall on things, but also led to a discussion on whether pool parties count as an outdoors hobby. They don't, for the record. Sure, they're usually outdoors, but nothing about pool parties requires them to be outdoors. He asked about The Girls, and was confused why Flora and Fauna couldn't figure out how to escape. I explained that they've all been outside the Kingdom and can come or go as they please, Flora and Fauna just don't wanna. They're just two regular girls, working, normal mice....but their sister is Tomb Raider. Gallavanting all around the world and occasionally popping in for breakfast. I wanted to get to work on his declaration, so we ended the call.
I'd made too many copies of everything, and lost track of which I'd been working on, so I just opened a bunch of them. Not only did I not find it, but I couldn't find the final version of anything I sent her. Then I got a terrible feeling. Since it was still early, I popped back in to the Remote Desktop, looked around at all those files, and then looked at the actual files I sent. At the next Benoit meeting she's going to ask me if I think maybe a job playing with crayons wouldn't be more my speed. As an added bonus, I got to see some emails from a panel attorney. I'd put her home address on the substitutions. She was less than pleased. I was less than kind with myself. Had a sudden omen of this being the final straw and getting fired. Losing my kids, losing my place, and ending up going back to drugs in a cardboard box in the rain. Kind of a weirdly specific prophecy, honestly. I had no idea what to do, but I figured JJD would understand the impending Apocalypse. He said it was no big deal, and it calmed me at the time, but these addresses go out to the clients. It is a very, very big deal to make sure their home address is not used. Ah, there's the edge again. Julian called me again, and I'm not really sure why I answered. We ended the phone call so I could work on a project *for him.* I was trying to figure out how to give enough attention to nod along while I worked, and finally just snapped out of it. I'm not going to juggle giving you the attention you're craving and the help you requested.
Tim called, and while he agreed with FHA, I broadened the concept. We should all ask ourselves what we're bringing to the relationship, anywhere along the spectrum from random commercial transactions to soul mates. Pretend we're vying for a job or trying to sell ourselves for whatever. I'm gonna work on my resume, and suggest Julian do it with me. And I'm going to stop presuming telephonic innocence. My voicemail explains it, either way. Tim hoped I'd make it down there this weekend, but we'll see. I've still got lots I want to do. And now that I *used to think* I was caught up at work, I needed to get caught up on my journal. Really caught up. Get back to writing the journal the day it's about, then updating as needed the next day. And now that I've got a Goal I should be able to achieve it. Even with minor speedbumps like finishing all but the title and having the mouse freak out and refresh the page or something. Lost it all. Started back up the mountain, called it a night around 2.
At the same time, apparently the Neighborhood social media landscape has a bit of a reputation for there being lots of trash to take out. This one almost got the best of me. Someone said a neighbor was scared of bats, trapped one that was in/near their house, sealed it in a zip lock bag, and tossed it in the dumpster. And wave after wave of filth was lining up to handwave it away. Fear, especially irrational fear, is simply no excuse for sadism. I couldn't physically murder these horrific, willfully ignorant people, since they weren't in front of me. But my fangs came out. I was probably venting. Obviously, scum speaking up *for* an animal abuser are going to be burnt to a cinder, but I was also taking out my frustration on them. About never quite being able to do enough, give enough, or get high enough. Some Karen had dug her heels in, insisting that because we don't have all the facts, we shouldn't report it. As bassackwards as that would be anyway, she became increasingly unhinged, and even engaged caps lock. "BITE ME WEENIE." I wouldn't touch her to scratch her, of course, but the venom in my fangs seems to have leveled up as well. She shrank back, stunned, told me to drop it or message her in private. It's worth noting as I look back that nowhere in there was an apology for obstruction of justice. But at the time, I stumbled. The victim card gives advantage on surprise attacks against me, and I would definitely have fallen prey to Kristin Gilles. Someone Thanked one of my censures, and I remembered these people are dross defending dross. The world will be better off without them.
After lunch, I finally managed to focus in and I got my definition of everything done. The substitutions were clunky and awkward as always, but I managed to find something of a rhythm with them. I finished the day with everything worked up, sent on, or sent out for my stuff, Kathy's stuff, and Kris's stuff. Monday should be a breeze. A Private Number called, and of course I thought it was Julian, but it was my trist. The connection was a bit off, but he laughed when I joked about running out of options for antidepressants thanks to my two requirements. Don't fuck up my sex drive, and don't fuck up my other emotions. There's like 3. Sleeping meds were kind of weird, because he seemed to shy away from sleeping meds and more towards things like trazodone, which is an antidepressant that just does a much better job at being a sleeping pill. I got both meds swapped out, so we'll see how we do.
The Private number called back, but this time it was Julian. We talked again about the trip, and how we're going to handle it. I'm nervous about it for no real reason I can point to. I can and will take time off for whatever needs doing, but I'm also aware that even normal people shouldn't necessarily do all the same activities on a vacation. And I told him to keep in mind that this is his San Diego vacation. My being here is bonus. He asked my hobbies, and of course I'm just getting to know them again myself. Games (board, video, RP...and sex), media viewing as an interactive activity, reading, discussing, dissecting, and analyzing......no, my real hobbies. Like running, or football, or hiking - outdoors hobbies. That put kind of a pall on things, but also led to a discussion on whether pool parties count as an outdoors hobby. They don't, for the record. Sure, they're usually outdoors, but nothing about pool parties requires them to be outdoors. He asked about The Girls, and was confused why Flora and Fauna couldn't figure out how to escape. I explained that they've all been outside the Kingdom and can come or go as they please, Flora and Fauna just don't wanna. They're just two regular girls, working, normal mice....but their sister is Tomb Raider. Gallavanting all around the world and occasionally popping in for breakfast. I wanted to get to work on his declaration, so we ended the call.
I'd made too many copies of everything, and lost track of which I'd been working on, so I just opened a bunch of them. Not only did I not find it, but I couldn't find the final version of anything I sent her. Then I got a terrible feeling. Since it was still early, I popped back in to the Remote Desktop, looked around at all those files, and then looked at the actual files I sent. At the next Benoit meeting she's going to ask me if I think maybe a job playing with crayons wouldn't be more my speed. As an added bonus, I got to see some emails from a panel attorney. I'd put her home address on the substitutions. She was less than pleased. I was less than kind with myself. Had a sudden omen of this being the final straw and getting fired. Losing my kids, losing my place, and ending up going back to drugs in a cardboard box in the rain. Kind of a weirdly specific prophecy, honestly. I had no idea what to do, but I figured JJD would understand the impending Apocalypse. He said it was no big deal, and it calmed me at the time, but these addresses go out to the clients. It is a very, very big deal to make sure their home address is not used. Ah, there's the edge again. Julian called me again, and I'm not really sure why I answered. We ended the phone call so I could work on a project *for him.* I was trying to figure out how to give enough attention to nod along while I worked, and finally just snapped out of it. I'm not going to juggle giving you the attention you're craving and the help you requested.
Tim called, and while he agreed with FHA, I broadened the concept. We should all ask ourselves what we're bringing to the relationship, anywhere along the spectrum from random commercial transactions to soul mates. Pretend we're vying for a job or trying to sell ourselves for whatever. I'm gonna work on my resume, and suggest Julian do it with me. And I'm going to stop presuming telephonic innocence. My voicemail explains it, either way. Tim hoped I'd make it down there this weekend, but we'll see. I've still got lots I want to do. And now that I *used to think* I was caught up at work, I needed to get caught up on my journal. Really caught up. Get back to writing the journal the day it's about, then updating as needed the next day. And now that I've got a Goal I should be able to achieve it. Even with minor speedbumps like finishing all but the title and having the mouse freak out and refresh the page or something. Lost it all. Started back up the mountain, called it a night around 2.
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