It never ceases to amaze me how much Murphy's Law affects us. This week alone has been one thing after another. First I was supposed to go get the test done and couldn't get it off work. Even though I had more than a months notice my boss wouldn't give me the day off. Yes there are only three people who work at my job, but it wasn't even on a busy day. Well, five people work there total if you count the bosses. But hey, I can't complain to much because I make good money and I can't afford to loose the Job.
Then I find out that my grandmother is in the hospital. She apparently had a hurnia and made it worse. The woman is 86-years-old and thought that lifting heavy things was a good idea. So I got that good news. Then I got four phone calls while I was trying to take a bath. On four different days.
Then I had to tell one of my childhood friends that my mom was sick and dying. Because we haven't talked in years. FUN FREAKIN FUN FUN!
So welcome to my life.....
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Status is Everything
So, yesterday at work I experienced something that I haven't experienced in some time. One of my characters came to the forefront of my mind and started yelling at me. Here is where you need to feel a little sorry for me *sighs*. She is the only character that I have that can age change on me at any given point in time. Most of my characters will change their age just for their back story but that's it, they are set in their age. This one on the other hand...we'll call her Curls. Curls doesn't have a set age, I never created her with one. Hence the beginning of my problem.
So Curls bounds up to me while I am doing my menial paycheck job. She's ten. She's glaring, and she starts yelling at me in some language I don't know. So I do what any person pretending to be sane at work so her co-workers don't talk about insane asylums. I ignored her. My mistake. So she sat on the corner of my desk, and promptly stated singing 'John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt' until I was forced to take my break. A ciggerate later I was calm enough to demand from her what the heck she wanted. She just stared at me and said: 'Status is Everything'.
Anyone who actually reads this will understand that when I'm writing I let my characters guide me until they flounder, then I take over. I then go back and re-write everything I just wrote into a cohesive document while they are tied in a corner with a bag of caramels to amuse them. This is how I work. I am in the process of working on one of my stories, trying to recover most of what I lost when my computer crashed. Then Curls shows her face.
Needless to say, those three words were enough for me to put three different writing projects aside. Characters I've played with before joined Curls. She also came equipped with several different characters of whom I have never met before.
I need to invest in Excedrin.
So Curls bounds up to me while I am doing my menial paycheck job. She's ten. She's glaring, and she starts yelling at me in some language I don't know. So I do what any person pretending to be sane at work so her co-workers don't talk about insane asylums. I ignored her. My mistake. So she sat on the corner of my desk, and promptly stated singing 'John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt' until I was forced to take my break. A ciggerate later I was calm enough to demand from her what the heck she wanted. She just stared at me and said: 'Status is Everything'.
Anyone who actually reads this will understand that when I'm writing I let my characters guide me until they flounder, then I take over. I then go back and re-write everything I just wrote into a cohesive document while they are tied in a corner with a bag of caramels to amuse them. This is how I work. I am in the process of working on one of my stories, trying to recover most of what I lost when my computer crashed. Then Curls shows her face.
Needless to say, those three words were enough for me to put three different writing projects aside. Characters I've played with before joined Curls. She also came equipped with several different characters of whom I have never met before.
I need to invest in Excedrin.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Sometimes I really dislike being a girl...
So as you can guess from the title my 'monthly glooms' have come along. I usually wouldn't talk about this on a blog, but I'm in pain, wide awake, and running a fever. All of the joys of my glooms. At least I think my fever is apart of the glooms, but I wasn't going to risk my friends son R.J. getting even sicker because I brought over a fever that wasn't the glooms. So as I endure the hold of cramping on my lower half I shall try to catch up my last few weeks (or months) since I have had a private moment to post.
Mom is doing better and worse. She's really shaken up over the rioting in Egypt, the crap going on in Libya, and now the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan. She easily freaks over natural disasters, so it's normal to me. Except that this round of freaking out has brought extreme lathragia. She's been sleeping most of the time. When she's awake she's not all there most of the time. As you can guess the house has gone to pieces. I'm working 40 hours a week and when I get home I'm exhausted, because I haven't worked a full time job since we left St. Joseph. Even when I worked at the now closed Movie Gallery's I was close to full time, but never quite there.
At Domino's up north it was a different story, I was working 60 to 80 hour weeks an my life revolved around the stores. Mom's did too. I think part of her depression isn't the disease, it's the fact that she wants to do things, but she can't. She'll think of all these wonderful things she can do, but never does them because she forgets, or she won't because she gets scared.
Another thing that's wearing me out is weathering her emotional storms. It's not as bad as it was before her meds got straightened out, but it's still rough every now and then. She decided that I was spending all of her money on stupid things and that I was purposefully hiding my money from her and not paying the bills. She failed to realize that we're behind on our bills (I've repeatedly reminded her of these conversations but she doesn't believe me) because out check book balanced for two months. I didn't get a single check from my other job (before this one) for that whole time period because the checks kept balancing and I needed to pay the overdraft charges. We're almost caught up, but now quite there yet. She thinks I'm wasting all the money that we get. She's the one who spent $190 at goodwill this week. Do you see my problems?
I don't begrudge her her money, or her right to spend it. After bills are paid I tell her. Somehow, every freakin' month, I get talked into taking her to goodwill, or DAV, or the Salvation Army, and we spend at least 60 bucks on crap we don't need and will never use. Then I get yelled at for a bill she sees. This has gone on for the past two months. I'm about ready to pull my hair out to an extent.
I love her though and she's not ready for a nursing home yet. My Aunt is getting her an appointment for a specialist in St. Louis. Hopefully I can get a foot in the door so that when she needs to go to a nursing home it will be the one they have there that specializes and only takes in patients with her disease.
I gotta go now. Needless to say I have written very little creative wise in the past months *sighs* but there is little I can do. Some nights I don't have the energy to write, others I can't get on the computer because she's on it. I think I'm going to have to old school it with pen and paper for now. I need to get some of these thoughts out of my head before I go mad. It's getting a little crammed up there for me to think straight.
Mom is doing better and worse. She's really shaken up over the rioting in Egypt, the crap going on in Libya, and now the Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan. She easily freaks over natural disasters, so it's normal to me. Except that this round of freaking out has brought extreme lathragia. She's been sleeping most of the time. When she's awake she's not all there most of the time. As you can guess the house has gone to pieces. I'm working 40 hours a week and when I get home I'm exhausted, because I haven't worked a full time job since we left St. Joseph. Even when I worked at the now closed Movie Gallery's I was close to full time, but never quite there.
At Domino's up north it was a different story, I was working 60 to 80 hour weeks an my life revolved around the stores. Mom's did too. I think part of her depression isn't the disease, it's the fact that she wants to do things, but she can't. She'll think of all these wonderful things she can do, but never does them because she forgets, or she won't because she gets scared.
Another thing that's wearing me out is weathering her emotional storms. It's not as bad as it was before her meds got straightened out, but it's still rough every now and then. She decided that I was spending all of her money on stupid things and that I was purposefully hiding my money from her and not paying the bills. She failed to realize that we're behind on our bills (I've repeatedly reminded her of these conversations but she doesn't believe me) because out check book balanced for two months. I didn't get a single check from my other job (before this one) for that whole time period because the checks kept balancing and I needed to pay the overdraft charges. We're almost caught up, but now quite there yet. She thinks I'm wasting all the money that we get. She's the one who spent $190 at goodwill this week. Do you see my problems?
I don't begrudge her her money, or her right to spend it. After bills are paid I tell her. Somehow, every freakin' month, I get talked into taking her to goodwill, or DAV, or the Salvation Army, and we spend at least 60 bucks on crap we don't need and will never use. Then I get yelled at for a bill she sees. This has gone on for the past two months. I'm about ready to pull my hair out to an extent.
I love her though and she's not ready for a nursing home yet. My Aunt is getting her an appointment for a specialist in St. Louis. Hopefully I can get a foot in the door so that when she needs to go to a nursing home it will be the one they have there that specializes and only takes in patients with her disease.
I gotta go now. Needless to say I have written very little creative wise in the past months *sighs* but there is little I can do. Some nights I don't have the energy to write, others I can't get on the computer because she's on it. I think I'm going to have to old school it with pen and paper for now. I need to get some of these thoughts out of my head before I go mad. It's getting a little crammed up there for me to think straight.
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