Urgh. Work sucked today, for many reasons, and it looks like the suckiness will run all through the week.

I need some cheering up (or a distraction). So, dear Flist, rec me some fic. :) (Any one of my usual fandoms is fine, ditto for ones you find in my interests; pretty much any genre is fine too, though I prefer darker stuff.) It can be your own or by someone else. Hell, it doesn't have to be fic. Macros, recipes, silly pictures, hot pictures, recs for books I should read and movies I should see... any kind of distracting* stuff is great.

*Both the "Guh... I'm sorry, you were saying?" kind and the "Helps me not snarl at people" kind is fine.
Thank you, mystery benefactor responsible for the virtual pint! It cheered me up to no end when I sat bleary-eyed at the computer in an attempt to stay awake this morning. *loves* (Who are you, mystery person?)

Other things which have cheered me up: the Good Omens anon kink meme here. (I participated, but since it's anonymous, I won't say more. *g*)

In other news: I have a new keyboard. I had a spare one, but it was so clunky and horrible I decided to buy a new one. It's not a fancy one, but at least it's coffee-free and in workable order. (The tiny backspace key and abnormal placement of the asterisk/apostrophe key annoy me, though.)

In Do Not Want news: the universe continues to hate me. I have to do the morning shift tomorrow, as I have a thesis group meeting in the afternoon. What is this 'sleep' thing people keep talking about? :P

For my next trick, I shall fall into bed. (Regular Wednesday chat people: I'm sorry I'm not online, but I'm practically falling asleep in front of the screen.)
empyreus: (foolish)
( Mar. 11th, 2008 06:49 pm)
Dear universe, I'm already getting roughly 200% of my RDA of Do Not Want, so could you please tone it down a little?

The past two weeks have been horrible work-wise, and I'm still far too tired, since I never seem to get enough sleep. (I don't have a problem falling asleep, it's the finding enough time to bit that's the problem.) This week is looking no better. Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment first thing in the morning (which involved Surprise Sample-taking and made me feel sudden sympathy for glove puppets, if you know what I mean), then they called in the afternoon and told me I needed to come in for another test today. Then they call from work to tell me workmate#1 is on sick leave Tues to Thurs, so I need to cover for her. This wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that I have to get up at six (at the very latest) tomorrow, since I'm having more tests done in the morning.

Said tests involve measuring the level of a number of hormones, and one of these can't be reliably measured after ten in the morning. This is a bit irritating, but what makes the test really irritating is the fact that another hormone, for some ineffable reason, can't be measured properly if the subject hasn't been up and about for at least three hours before the blood sample is taken. Argh. This means I have a lab appointment at ten past nine, meaning I have to be up by six, and then I have a full day of work (ten to five) after that. Do not want. D:

EtA: and now I spilled my mug of coffee onto my keyboard and ruined it. Fuck!

After work today, I dragged myself outside to get my bike, not looking forward to the ride home since the weather was crap and since I'd done the early morning shift. When I rounded the corner and stopped in front of the bike stand, it took me a moment to figure out what was wrong with my bike. Some fucker had stolen the seat and the seat post. Yes. Nicked them.

I was so surprised it took me a moment to get angry. Right now, I'm rather amused by the whole thing, since the seat was a) old and b) uncomfortable as hell*, but there's still an edge of anger. I mean, wtf? There were six other bikes there, all of which had more comfortable seats. Huh. I guess mine was easiest to get loose.

So, after fuming quietly for a while, I called my father, asking him to give me a ride home. He wouldn't stop sniggering, the bastard, but agreed to it. I then went looking for a new bike seat. The first store had none, and the second one had seats but no posts. I got a seat, swore quietly and extensively, and went in search of a post, something which turned out to be surprisingly complicated. The diameter is, as one would expect, all-important, and the first bike shop I entered didn't have the right kind of post. Cue more quiet swearing (not aimed at the shopkeeper, since it wasn't his fault) and me heading to another bike shop. They had the right diameter, thank goodness. The post (which was used) came with a seat, but I didn't complain. It's better than the old one, and bearable, so I'll return the new seat I bought.

Just. I want to find whoever did this and nail their scrotum to a fence. At face height. With rusty nails.

*It was a narrow, hard racing seat which minor TMI )and which I hated anyway. I was just too lazy to get a new one.
empyreus: (foolish)
( Feb. 29th, 2008 08:34 pm)
Guess who hit herself in the chin with a packing tape dispenser today?

Yes, that would be me. I now have a half-inch-long cut across my chin and the beginnings of a small bruise under it. Go me. And how did I manage this stunning feat of self-pwnage, you ask? By holding the dispenser with the blade away from me (thinking I could avoid cutting my hand that way), yanking on the tape that was stuck, and finally tugging so hard the tape snapped. Since I was effectively pulling on the dispenser, which has a pistol grip for doing just that, it meant my arm jerked back when the tape broke. Cue metal corner of the dispenser hitting me in the chin hard enough to jar my jaw. Ow. I didn't think it was that bad, though I did reflexively swear, but then I heard my workmate say: "You're bleeding" as she ushered me toward the mirror (and away from the customers that just showed up, I imagine). It bled for a few minutes, meaning I had to stick a plaster on it to avoid scaring customers, but when I noticed they stared anyway, I took the plaster off and hoped the wound had closed enough to stop bleeding. It had, and while the narrow gash was dark red, it was also a lot less startling than the plaster had been.

Just. I'm getting sick of this week and of the universe trying to pwn me at every turn. It's bad enough that I have to work six days this week, I don't need shitty days to increase my misery. (There's a bit of win to my day, though: my sister brought me sweet potato soup that she'd made herself, so I didn't have to make dinner. *loves*)

And I think I have the beginnings of a cold, too. Fuck.
There's something close to a snowstorm raging outside (hard gusts of wind, at least an inch and a half of snow in the last hour alone, with more spilling down at a very rapid rate), and of course they call from work and ask if I could take over the last hour and a half as the boss has to leave at half past three and as other workmate has to catch a bus at the same time to be with ill child. Of course I folded as a lawn chair and said yes, because there's only three of us. I had to. Argh. Hour-and-a-half shifts are so bloody annoying. I can only hope the poor weather dissuades customers. :P

I just wish the snowfall would stop for a bit so I can get to work without having to bike at a snail's pace due to poor visibility.
empyreus: (warmest word)
( Jan. 8th, 2008 05:30 pm)
I've been intending to post about both for ages, and I realized they fit together beautifully.

Item one is a recipe. I promised [livejournal.com profile] caras_galadhon I'd convert this recipe for her, but I thought the rest of you might like it as well.

Angel cookies )

And the second item is a wtf company gift. On my second-to-last day of work before Christmas, I found a red box with my name on it (plus a note wishing me a merry christmas) on the back ironing board, and of course I immediately peeked inside the box. What met my eyes made me laugh like a drain. Thank heavens I was alone and that we hadn't opened yet.

Pictures under the cut, because it's funnier to see it before knowing what it is.

Demon... items. )
empyreus: (confused)
( Nov. 30th, 2007 11:31 pm)
It's not like my life is bizarre or anything, but today:

* I spotted my former French teacher buying two squeaking rubber chickens.
* I served a customer who turned out to have the same surname as me, and the next customer in line then told me that his sister's married surname is... (wait for it) the same as mine. This wouldn't be so weird if it weren't for the fact that there are less than 3000 people with the same surname in the country.

*shakes head* I think my daily quota of weirdness is filled.
... and priests will appear. Today at work, while I was trying to keep sane by wallowing in filthy and borderline blasphemous Boondock Saints-related mental images, a priest comes in. For some reason, priests/vergers/Mormons always show up when I'm on shift, and I always have a hard time keeping a straight face. This isn't because I don't respect them (because I do), but because I've generally been thinking of something blasphemous just before they show up. It's like they have sinner radar.

In other news: I now have my bike back and am 90 euros poorer. Ow. And the bastard repairman had "taken the liberty of replacing the saddle, because it was in such a state". Liberty my arse. It was fifteen easy euros for him, and I wasn't going to pay for something I hadn't asked for. I told him to take the new saddle off and put the old one back, ignoring the look he gave me. He also looked like he was about to protest, but I put on my best bitch face and stood my ground. Had he said anything, I would probably have told him something along the lines of "Look, I've just left work and I'm sweaty, tired and hungry. I've been nice to snippy people all day, my feet hurt and I have the beginnings of a tension headache from clenching my jaw. Don't start with me." I didn't have to, though. He must have understood I wasn't in a bartering mood, so he quickly ran up the total (for new gears, new chain and adjustment of the back wheel, plus labor) and ended up shaving five euros off it. He didn't mention it, but I'd taken a look at the work sheet and done some quick calculations. I don't know if it was my demeanour or if it was something else, but I didn't complain. Oh, and he ended up replacing my old saddle with another used one at no extra cost. (It's not as nice as it sounds, though, because it's hellishly uncomfortable. My poor ischial tuberosities.)

And now I'm going to fall into bed, because while an asprin took the edge off the tension headache, the tense jaw and neck are still bothering me. Plus I'm exhausted. (And really behind on replying to comments, too. I'm so sorry.)
empyreus: (work)
( Jul. 3rd, 2007 10:02 pm)
Aaaack. It's too hot everywhere. Work has been terrible, because the temperature inside has been around 30°C (86°F) for about the last week and a half. The ventilation is on full blast, the front door is open, as is the back window, and yet it's good for nothing. Now, had I had a desk job, it wouldn't have been quite as annoying, but as I run back and forth and generally flail around (wash, fold, iron, sort, pack, serve customers) throughout my shift, it's horrible. I'm constantly exhausted, despite trying to remember to drink water often. I'm sure there's a clause in some contract somewhere that dictates that people who work in places where the temperature is above normal room temp get to take breaks more often, but in my case, it's not really an option. There's only two of us there at the moment, and if we take breaks, who is going to keep things running? Hence we just grit our teeth and bear it.

I'm seriously considering stripping the sheets off my bed and putting them in the freezer for a few hours before I go to bed.

And now the burn on my arm has begun itching terribly, too. Wah.
Work today was horrible, vile and infuriating, and the less said about it the better. It sucked big fat scrotal sacks, and I'm so glad it's over I'd dance if I had any energy left.

At least I finally got a call from the work health centre (which I'd been playing phone tag with for the better part of this week) which confirmed that the minor abnormality in my bloodwork was just that, minor, and that it had levelled out between the first blood test and the second. That's probably the only good thing about today.

*faceplants on desk*
Dear SubTv,
your decision to air The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Boondock Saints back-to-back seems to have incapacitated my already tired brain. I am currently battling detailed and frightening mental images. Please advise.

Confused flailing,

In other news: am tired. So very tired, and I don't know if it's a mild case of anaemia (from donating blood last week) kicking in late or simple fatigue brought on by stress and work. My head is more tired than my body, because I have been gobbling up text at a frightening pace to be able to finish an assignment. Fortunately I don't have work tomorrow (yay for small mercies), and I'm thinking of blowing off the single lecture I have in favour of some rest. I'll need it, because my boss decided that yes, I should come in to work on Friday morning after my visit to the medical centre (I need to have some lab work done as part of the mandatory work health check-up). Now, this wouldn't be all that annoying normally, but the check-up is at 9.30 in the morning, and I'll probably have to do a full day shift after that. Bah.
Well, I think that marks the end of the unseasonably warm spring weather. It's just below zero outside, and from the sound of it, a windstorm is doing its best to add that extra bit of "argh" to my day. On top of that, I have to go to work earlier and attempt to make a dent in the absolutely obscene piles of winter coats that need to be washed. Do not want, not at all.

Also, a note to self: it generally helps to put water in the coffeemaker before switching it on.
empyreus: (work)
( Feb. 19th, 2007 11:37 am)
Oh bollocks. Here I was, thinking I'd have some free time today ('free' in the sense that I have neither work nor teaching) and that I'd be able to catch up on a few uni assignments whose deadlines are drawing near, when I get a text message from my boss saying "Things are a bit busy here. When can you show up?" Argh.

Oh well, it's money. Can't say no to that. It's just that I'd love to get some rest once in a while.
Stealth updating from the computer lab where I am nominally teaching my Swedish class. I say 'nominally', because I'm not actually teaching them anything at the moment. My voice is terribly hoarse, so I dragged the group to the computer lab and told them to do online Swedish exercises. Some of them actually obeyed, the rest are either surfing aimlessly or staring at the monitor morosely. I've decided not to push them, and instead I do an occasional round in the room and point out a site or tell the group that it's up to them whether or not they want to learn something. Some of the people actually seem motivated, wonder of wonders, but there are one or two who just won't.give.a.damn, and it's annoying the hell out of me. Oh well, only two more lessons to go, Thursday and all day next Wednesday (do not want). I'm not saying I hate teaching, mind, only that non-motivated students are threatening to take all the fun out of it. *wilts*

Other things annoying me at the moment, in no particular order:
* the Red Cross Blood Donor service sending me a message reminding me that they need donors of my type. The annoying bit isn't the request, but that fact that I have a cold and can't go. (Yes, that makes me feel terribly guilty, even though I'm in no way obligated to go when they send out the messages.)

* the slippery snow. It's only about -3° here and the snow is starting to melt without turning to slush yet. The result: soap-slippery ice-sheened snow.

* my inability to send stuff out to people. Ack.

* that fact that I still owe lots of peole lots of fics. Every time I load up the files, it's like I lock myself out of the headspace. I suspect it's my perfectionism at work again.

Bah. Back to (not) teaching now. Only half an hour to go.
empyreus: (ill)
( Feb. 10th, 2007 10:23 pm)
Can someone please put me out of my misery? The cold from hell has decided to sink its claws into me, and my nose is stuffy and runny, my throat is sore, I keep coughing and my limbs feel leaden. I also appear to have temporarily lost most of my sense of taste. I kept losing my voice at work, and it was rather embarrassing to address customers or answer the phone while sounding like a boy stuck halfway through a particularly hellish puberty.

And now I can't stop sneezing.
empyreus: (icicle)
( Feb. 8th, 2007 07:25 am)
It's -24°C here and I have to bike across town to teach three and a half hours of Swedish in about an hour. After that, I have to bike to uni, fast, in order to be on time for the 12-14 lecture on language planning and domain loss. Which will be held in Danish.

And my throat is dry and raspy, making me constantly thirsty and inclined to cough.

Do not want.
Just a quick post to prove that I'm alive. I'm horribly tired, and I just cancelled the sign-up for the two exams I had scheduled for the 16th and the 19th. I have too much on my to-do list right now (including four challenge fics, one of which is really late, ack), and there'll be retakes in the spring anyway.

Now for something a bit more positive: Thank you for the lovely cards, [livejournal.com profile] azewewish, [livejournal.com profile] quatorze, [livejournal.com profile] soawen (the ornament was lovely!), [livejournal.com profile] tvillingar and [livejournal.com profile] ios_pillow_book!

My own cards will probably be a bit late (surprise!), but I'll try to get them out this week.
Well, this is certainly one hell of a way to start a week. I woke up at half past three in the morning, feeling nauseous and disoriented, and my stomach was aching. I staggered up, feeling rather like someone had just punched me hard in the gut, and tried to drink some water. Bad idea. I held it down for maybe ten minutes, then it came back up again.

I texted my boss at around half past five, saying I was unable to come to work, then called her half an hour later to check it was okay. (I sounded awful on the phone: my voice was raspy and there was an inappropriate single hiccup in the middle of a sentence.) It was, as long as I could come to work normally tomorrow. I'm rather sure I can, provided this ickiness doesn't last until the evening.

I get these fits from time to time, and I have no idea what causes them. The symptoms don't really fit any of the bigger gastrointestinal crises (appendicitis, gastritis, gall stones), but they're harsh enough to leave me bed-ridden for the day. My stomach aches, the ache centring about a hand's-width below my sternum; I have chills and dizziness, plus I can't keep anything except water down properly. It'll pass in a few hours, but until then, I can't really do much else than lie curled up and ride out the pain. (I typed this entry in two parts, actually, as I had to go lie down about halfway through. Ack.)

I feel a bit better now, the pain having diminished to a dull gnawing with occasional sharp stabs, but I'm still very dizzy and weak and my feet are freezing even though it's 24 degrees centigrade inside. The most annoying thing is that I'm beginning to feel hungry despite the stomach upset, and I'm not sure I can keep anything solid down. Hmm. Strong sweet tea might work, though, so I think I'll try that now.
empyreus: (got to be joking)
( Jul. 7th, 2006 08:14 pm)
Agh. I wish the heat would end already. (I know you shouldn't say that, but I feel awful when the weather is too hot.) Right now, it's over 27 degrees centigrade in the shade here.

Work is as gruelling as ever, and the heat isn't making it any easier.

This week's "wtf?": I've literally beaten carpets until my hands bled. The friction from the carpet* ripped part of the skin off the middle joints of two fingers on my left hand and one on my right. It hurts like buggery, especially when the scabs break as I bend my fingers.

The machinery I use on daily basis has decided to work against me, and I swear there's some secret book of rules governing cleaning equipment, something along the lines of "Nowe we are come to the fell beaste that is yclepen the scrubber-drier. And lo, there is muche lore about thise machyne, and there is rulewerk thereto.

#1: Thy shalt, when thy pusheth the scrubber-drier, see that itte wilt go not where thou wantest it to go, but in the direkshoun that is of the leaste gaine. Thou wilt see that itte slammeth into doores of chambers wherein sitte men of much import, or else itte assaulteth the potted plantynges thatte line the halles.

#2: When thy under thine breathe sayeth "Buggerie" to curse the scrubber-drier, thy wilt next lifte thine gaze to see the janitor, who wille give thee a gaze of curiositie.

#3: When thy attempteth to pushe the scrubber-drier up the steepe incline thatte is the ramp to the nexte floore, thy wilt finde thatte thisse beaste weyteth now a full tonne more. Itte knowest when thy muste pushe it, and itte wilt spare no tricke to cause miserye. (I wilt have the reader knowe thatte thise wickeyde machyne weighes over three tymes mine weightte.)"

(Ack, I can't keep that up for very long. My heartfelt apologies to medievalists/Chaucerhathblog fans for the heartless butchering of fake Middle English.)

So, in modern English: the scrubber-drier is the current bane of my existence, and I dislike it intensely. That fact that the hallways with their south-facing glass walls are boiling hot even in the morning adds to my misery.

Also: I'm less than impressed with my shift boss' sudden decision to stick me with *two* areas instead of my regular one. Granted, there isn't all that much work needing to be done, but the areas are large, meaning I have to run around even more than usual. Add to this the fact that I'm terribly bad at getting enough fluids or listening to my body, and you have a recipe for disaster. I've decided to stick with this until the end of the month, and then I'll tell a little white lie about uni work (actually, it isn't a lie: I do have lectures in August, just not full-time) and say I can't work in August. I have to get some rest in, otherwise I'll collapse in September.

There was something else I intended to mention, but I've forgot what it was. Again. *sigh*

Here, have a link to a faintly disturbing and boytouchy clip from Lipstick on Your Collar. I say "faintly disturbing" because there's a cadre of old men feeling up Ewan McGregor.

*In a way, at any rate. On the backswing, my knuckles brushed along the carpet fast enough for the artificial fibers to give me friction burn. Keep it up for long enough and the skin will break. Ow.


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