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Dec. 25th, 2002
hey, wow. It lives.
Dec. 25th, 2002 07:56 pmProbably.
These last two weeks have felt particularly hard. It's the sleep, I think. I don't feel that I have time for anything but work, work, and more work.
I get up at 6am, I go to bed at 1am.
Everything in-between that time is spent at work, driving, work, driving, or work. I nap on my breaks. 15 minutes of dream-filled wackiness. Lunchtime is wandering around downtown Clayton, wishing I'd had the time to make lunch. Again. My budget is failing.
Offsetting lunch is the parking away from downtown Clayton and riding the bus (2.50, round trip) rather than paying for parking (4-10).
As for why I'm working two jobs, instead of quitting the Chouteau? Two reasons. The first is purely monetary: I may not be earning a hell of a lot there, but it still means more money for the cushion. An addendum to that is that Christmas time means the desk people get gifts--tips, mainly--from the people who live in the building. I'm perfectly mercenary about that. The more, the better. They get thank you cards out of it. *shrug*
The second is that, even though it's not my responsibility, I still feel bad about leaving Don in the lurch. Which is fucking stupid.
But I don't think leaving right before Christmas works well anyway.
I'd make such a great Jewish kid. All that guilt.
So I'm surviving. Being able to get online over the weekend will help (I adored seeing Ryss and Tom, but the 315 entries back on LJ was... a bit much).
I keep getting fic ideas in the middle of lunch, or when I'm just sorting decs. Have a Faith bit to type. Wrote a Dom/Cable piece--which is posted. There's a few bits for the second Trix novel, and a fucked-up death scene done to the Evanescence song "Bring Me To Life".
So I've resorted to carrying around folded sheets of blue paper. They work fairly well, I fill one and have to go back to work.
Got chatted up at Arbys the other day, by the counter guy. *headshake* He didn't get scared off when I told him I was writing Buffy fanfiction. I worry for the state of the nation.
Of course, he likes Chris Tucker, but hadn't seen the Fifth Element. I see this relationship dead in the water before it begins.
Cards will be bought over the weekend. I might actually get them in the mail before June.
I feel oddly strange, not being at work. Must go back at 10, but... Ashley still needs the money, so we're still splitting Tues/Wed between us. I'm ok with that, it'll mean I have time to go do things during the week.
Tomorrow, I shall watch the Firefly pilot, since I set it to tape last Friday.
We'll see if it worked.
On a Buffy note, Amends was on the other day, and I was... struck with the fact that, in a way, Season Six was Buffy's Amends--as in, she was Angel, this time round. Of course, the First didn't reappear until I spoilered. But I could care less. Season six was so... off. Even bits of five were just off (imo, they should have just ended the show.)
But that's a long discussion for another day.
ReBoot. Matrix = Cable. Bob = Scott. Megabyte = Poccy. And Marya wants to be a virus and a Guardian. Heaven help the 'Net.
I should go. Type some things. Edit Random Orcs.
These last two weeks have felt particularly hard. It's the sleep, I think. I don't feel that I have time for anything but work, work, and more work.
I get up at 6am, I go to bed at 1am.
Everything in-between that time is spent at work, driving, work, driving, or work. I nap on my breaks. 15 minutes of dream-filled wackiness. Lunchtime is wandering around downtown Clayton, wishing I'd had the time to make lunch. Again. My budget is failing.
Offsetting lunch is the parking away from downtown Clayton and riding the bus (2.50, round trip) rather than paying for parking (4-10).
As for why I'm working two jobs, instead of quitting the Chouteau? Two reasons. The first is purely monetary: I may not be earning a hell of a lot there, but it still means more money for the cushion. An addendum to that is that Christmas time means the desk people get gifts--tips, mainly--from the people who live in the building. I'm perfectly mercenary about that. The more, the better. They get thank you cards out of it. *shrug*
The second is that, even though it's not my responsibility, I still feel bad about leaving Don in the lurch. Which is fucking stupid.
But I don't think leaving right before Christmas works well anyway.
I'd make such a great Jewish kid. All that guilt.
So I'm surviving. Being able to get online over the weekend will help (I adored seeing Ryss and Tom, but the 315 entries back on LJ was... a bit much).
I keep getting fic ideas in the middle of lunch, or when I'm just sorting decs. Have a Faith bit to type. Wrote a Dom/Cable piece--which is posted. There's a few bits for the second Trix novel, and a fucked-up death scene done to the Evanescence song "Bring Me To Life".
So I've resorted to carrying around folded sheets of blue paper. They work fairly well, I fill one and have to go back to work.
Got chatted up at Arbys the other day, by the counter guy. *headshake* He didn't get scared off when I told him I was writing Buffy fanfiction. I worry for the state of the nation.
Of course, he likes Chris Tucker, but hadn't seen the Fifth Element. I see this relationship dead in the water before it begins.
Cards will be bought over the weekend. I might actually get them in the mail before June.
I feel oddly strange, not being at work. Must go back at 10, but... Ashley still needs the money, so we're still splitting Tues/Wed between us. I'm ok with that, it'll mean I have time to go do things during the week.
Tomorrow, I shall watch the Firefly pilot, since I set it to tape last Friday.
We'll see if it worked.
On a Buffy note, Amends was on the other day, and I was... struck with the fact that, in a way, Season Six was Buffy's Amends--as in, she was Angel, this time round. Of course, the First didn't reappear until I spoilered. But I could care less. Season six was so... off. Even bits of five were just off (imo, they should have just ended the show.)
But that's a long discussion for another day.
ReBoot. Matrix = Cable. Bob = Scott. Megabyte = Poccy. And Marya wants to be a virus and a Guardian. Heaven help the 'Net.
I should go. Type some things. Edit Random Orcs.
