I wonder if I'll ever learn not to overthink everything. If I'll ever be able to just write fic, be happy with it and post it without agonising over whether or not someone'll think I've failed so hard omg with a side of the standard whiny "but this'll never be as good or as popular as the epics everyone loves". I think I need to get out the world's smallest violin and play for myself a little. :P

Also, I have a totally idiotic Inception-related question: when you enter someone else's dream, are the clothes you wear ones you a) chose yourself (i.e. told yourself you'd be wearing in the dream), b) wore when you fell asleep, c) the dreamer put you in? Or d) something else entirely? (Or e) wtf is wrong with you, what the hell kind of question was that? Are you stupid?) I'm sure the answer is blindingly obvious, but I'm just feeling too dense at the moment.

This has just been a bit of a shitty day and a shitty week and I feel a bit moody and unsure of myself again. Bleh.
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.
empyreus: (marsh elf)
( May. 31st, 2010 06:31 pm)
Argh. Today has been one of Those Days. So many little annoying things adding up and so much frustration grinding away at my peace of mind. At one point, I felt like snapping and just randomly shouting abuse at people since everyone seemed to annoy me. I didn't. I just seethed inwardly and hoped I didn't look as livid as I felt. It's a bit of an odd mood swing for me. Most of the time I'm rather even-tempered and I wouldn't be surprised if someone thought I was meek.

It's a bit better now (the rage has passed), but I'm still irritated by the smallest things. Plus I feel tired (mind, getting up at half past six will do that to you) and apathetic and mostly just in need of a hug.
My journal turned seven years old today. o_O Christ, have I been here that long? It doesn't feel like it, honest. *squishes Flist* I love you all of you, newbies and old friends alike. *g*

EtA March 28th: In other news: I still hate Vista. Argh. Has anyone been able to install and run Semagic on Vista Home? I've tried to install it, but it gets wanky at the very beginning of the process and keeps whining about a ntvdm error. >_< Fixed it.
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!
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.
Ow. This week is just not going well. Yesterday, as I was biking to work (being in a bit of a hurry, too), I managed to fall. It wasn't a bad fall, more a sideways slip, but the stupid thing was that just before it happened, I'd actually deliberately slowed down to avoid falling, since that part of the road was so icy.

So, I slipped, hit my left knee and swore. I got up, feeling a bit annoyed, and noticed the chain had slipped. I was already running late, so I completely ignored my knee, thinking it was a bit bruised but otherwise fine (the actual thought was round the lines of "Ack, I'm going to have a bitch of a bruise tomorrow.") and focused on the chain. When I got on my way again, I knew I was almost late, so I biked hard and ignored the pain in the knee. I did notice that some of the people who passed me looked at me a bit funny, but figured I was being paranoid. It wasn't until I stopped at an intersection that I thought to look down at my knee. My trouser leg was torn, but I couldn't see the skin, so I reasoned the hole was the reason people looked. I was wrong. )

I know. I should be wrapped up in cotton and forbidden to bike in winter. :P
empyreus: (yuletide owl by chomiji)
( Dec. 20th, 2007 04:00 am)
Yuletide done and posted. Mine was #809, with 3 hours, 1 minute and 11 seconds to spare. (Give or take a few seconds.)

Now all I have to do is panic for at least five days about what the recipient thinks and whether or not the whole bloody thing is made of fail.

And now, a few hours of well-earned sleep. I have a feeling the thesis meeting later today will end up rather interesting...
empyreus: (got to be joking)
( Dec. 12th, 2007 02:57 pm)
The instructions for this analgesic gel kill me: "Wait at least two minutes before touching the treated area with your tongue in order to allow a protective film to form." Err, the treated area is ON my tongue. Also, do you have any idea how much saliva forms when you sit with your mouth open for two minutes, literally holding your tongue to stop it from chafing against your teeth? A lot. I drooled like I'd just seen Sean Bean parade by stark bollock naked.

And in happier news: Thank you for the cards, [livejournal.com profile] azewewish and [livejournal.com profile] cruisedirector! *hugs*
empyreus: (do not want)
( Dec. 11th, 2007 10:38 pm)
Argh. I have a canker sore the size of Wales on the side of my tongue and it hurts when I speak, eat, drink, swallow or yawn. The sore scrapes against my back teeth constantly, and it's a terrible dull pain that keeps distracting me. I've tried my usual home remedy, baking soda applied directly, but it only takes the edge off it for a while. The next step is the rather more painful scrubbing with salt on a toothbrush, and yes, it's as pleasant as it sounds. Mm, the taste of blood and salt. I'll have to head over to the nearest pharmacy tomorrow morning to see if they carry any of the analgesic gels available here. (I had to google to find any names, since the last time I had a bad outbreak of apthtous ulcers, the most common treatment was in tablet form, and worse yet, on prescription. Wtf?)

It took me a day to figure out that no, it's not my jaw that's tired, it's my tongue that's hurting. The pain is so diffuse you can't quite tell which bit hurts the worst, and the placement of the sore isn't helping at all. Also, I have to concentrate when I speak, since I slur slightly because of the pain.

And that was much more than you needed to know about my mouth.

(Oh god this thesis work is going nowhere and I have a million things to do yet and I owe comments to everyone and the dog and I can't focus since my mouth hurts. Fuck.)
As much as I love snow, I'd really appreciate if it didn't always decide to start pelting down when I need to go somewhere.

I have a bit of a backlog of older snow pictures, since the weather has decided to go all Vicky Pollard on us: "Snow but no but yeah but no...". The snow stays on the ground for about a day if we're lucky, then it melts and stays away for a week or so before coming back, staying briefly and then melting... lather, rinse and repeat.

Agh. I'm currently all frazzled from trying to deal with all the things I need to get done before next week. At least I got all the translations done and sent out. (At ten past two in the morning.) One down, at least four to go, and I have work tomorrow. Do not want. *snarls*

Also: Gmail, you're quite free to stop withholding comments from me. I'm not going to start thumbtacking every post I reply to just to make sure I can track conversations, and your habit of randomly spitting out a stray comment here and there isn't amusing in the least.
empyreus: (teacher)
( Nov. 5th, 2007 05:05 pm)
*collapses* Finally got the bloody preliminary report sent out to my supervisor and my opponent. It's a little short (22 pages rather than 25, though the longer reports I've looked at have had huge blocks of white space, while I've eschewed using that old trick to swell the page count), but I can't continue before I know if the theory I'm using passes muster with the supervisor. I'll be meeting her on Wednesday, so wish me luck.

No time to rest now, as I have to crack on with a translation commission that has to be done by Wednesday. Do not want.

Reason #2,785 I hate my neighbours: at about three o'clock this morning, the asshats slammed the stairwell door so hard my hall lamp got jolted off its hangings and crashed to the floor, shattering the glass globe. (It's a wall lamp that's not plugged in at the moment, but it hung by its sturdy base on two screws that normally hold it in place well.) My hall is next to and partially under the stairwell to the second floor, so I always hear when someone slams that door. Argh.

*curls up* I'm so stressed and tired that I can't even think of something that might cheer me up. Fail.
empyreus: (do not want)
( Oct. 20th, 2007 05:34 pm)
This day is quite obviously trying to be as horrid as possible. First, I slept badly and woke up rather late, which meant I had to have a super-quick shower and then flail around the apartment trying to towel my hair, brush my teeth, drink coffee, slap some make-up on and get dressed at the same time. I kept glancing at the clock, fretting since I was almost late for work by the time I was done. I then dashed out of the door, slammed it closed and stopped dead in my tracks.

My keys. They were still on the kitchen table. Fuck.

What makes this even worse is that I'm the kind of person who needs to check twice that she has her keys and that the coffee maker is turned off. I've never, during the five years I've lived in this flat, locked myself out. This really wasn't the best day to succeed at it. Not only do I work the Saturday shift alone, meaning I have to be there on time, I also realized that the spare key wasn't on the noticeboard at my parents' like the other spare keys (meaning I could get at them relatively fast), it was on my father's keychain. And he's travelling at the moment. I called my workmate first, saying "Err, there's been a bit of a cock-up. I've locked myself out and my work keys are on the same keychain as my flat keys." She said this wasn't a problem, she'd send her husband over to work with her keys, and told me to bike off to meet him. I told her I couldn't, since my bike lock keys were also on the keyring that was inside. (Yes, don't all tell me at once how smrt I am.) I then called my mother and asked her if the super had a spare key and if she could drive me to work really fast. She misunderstood me and headed over to the super first, then headed over to pick me up.

I ended up being twenty minutes late. Ack. Thankfully, there were no irate customers hanging on the door handle, and I was able to go on with my work in a relatively normal fashion. Except for the fact that there was a metric fuckton of work clothes needing to be washed. While I tried to deal with it and serve customers at the same time, I managed to a) spill about a litre of detergent all over the floor, meaning I had to crawl around trying to mop it up before washing the floor so it wasn't lethally slick; b) slam my head into the edge of the counter; c) clip my elbow on the carpet rack; d) burn my hand on steam; and e) cut my finger on a rogue safety pin. (Rarely has something been so misnamed.) Argh. When I finished, I was stressed and hungry and also rather irritated.

And now I have a deadline looming in the very near future, plus I have to work on the thesis report, which is currently stalled. I also need to write a letter to my [livejournal.com profile] yuletide Santa. Argh. I can has moar time?
empyreus: (pissed off)
( Oct. 15th, 2007 06:31 pm)
I hope there's a special circle of Hell reserved for people who make notes in permanent ink in library books.

It's not your book. You're effectively vandalizing someone else's property.
empyreus: (pissed off)


( Oct. 4th, 2007 12:13 pm)
They're drilling stone at the construction site next door, the caretaker/gardener/whatnot is mowing the lawn under my window with what sounds like a cross between a Sikorsky and a diesel-powered combine harvester, and now my upstairs neighbours seem to have decided to start moving furniture.

All while I'm trying to go through thesis material, weeding out viable theory and things I need to photocopy before having to return the books. *headdesk* I can has silence?
10-page thesis report: pwned. I'll sleep on it, though, because right now I'm so tired I can't accurately judge if any of makes sense.

I included an incredibly long and nerdy footnote on the arguable mistranslation of one of Aziraphale's lines, and only time will tell if my supervisor still gets up on the wrong side of the wrong bed and bitches about it. Also, guess how many reports were handed in on Monday? One. Out of twelve. As it stands now (half past ten in the pm), two reports have been handed in. (The reason I know this? We post the reports to a shared thesis forum, we don't hand in hard copies.)

In other uni-related news: it seems the Humanities building is more sinister than first thought. Apparently there's been (to quote an email sent out by one of the English professors) "surprise need for an environmental cleanup" and they're "encapsulating and removing toxic substances". o_O They've been renovating the building since late spring because of what we were told was some minor mould issues, but apparently there's something more unpleasant there. The fun bit? The English department is just next to and partially above the affected part. Fun. The email further advised students not to move about in the building more than absolutely necessary, so I suddenly feel much better about having skipped Monday's Norwegian lecture in order to work on the report. *g* What pisses me off about the situation, though, is that the students haven't (to my knowledge) been informed of it. At least I hadn't heard a word about the whole situation before the email dropped into my inbox.

The situation would make for an interesting short story, actually. Toxic earth under the building suddenly breeding poisonous life...
empyreus: (pissed off)
( Aug. 27th, 2007 08:15 pm)
There are a number of things wrong with this day:

* The lot next to the house I live in is being cleared to make room for a new house. The demolition process seems to have reached the acme of annoyance today, what with constant (read: since before eight this morning) drilling of stone coupled with the grating roar of various hydraulic excavation equipment. As of 8.10 p.m., they're still at it.

* The irritation (and subsequent clenching of my jaw) caused by the aforementioned drilling has given me a tension headache and a mildly sore jaw.

* It's raining outside, something which normally might have been quite nice (I like the sound and smell of early autumn rain), but I can't keep the window open because of the bloody noise.

* My new tattoos won't stop itching, and I can't scratch them while they're still healing.

This is such a Monday. *curls up* Distract me?
The back tire on my bike is flat. Again. This time, though, I'm not paying through the nose to have that twunt of a repairman fix it. Oh no. *fires up Google* This is something I should be able to do on my own.

Are there any bike enthusiasts on my Flist? Do you have any advice on how to go about this? Things to avoid, that sort of thing? Haha, found something. Apparently I've misremembered what the derailleur connects to, and therefore been far too apprehensive about fixing a rear tire flat. Good news, in other words.

EtA: managed to get the back tire loose without incident. (Unless you count having oil and grime up to your elbows.) Go me.
Good news: have now located holes (two, which go straight through the inner tube and therefore count as four) and identified culprit (inch-long bent nail).
Bad news: old repair kit only has two patches. Fuck. Will have to borrow sister's bike tomorrow and get a new repair kit after work.

Odd news: have read first eight chapters of DH and noticed I can take breaks (such as the two-hour one during which I fixed most of the bike) without feeling odd or needing to dive in again. This is itself a bit odd. Non-spoilery reactions so far? The unintentional double entendres kill me. XD
... 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.)
What's that old curse again? May you live in interesting times? I certainly am. As I was biking home from work today, I heard a sudden rattle followed by a high-pitched 'ting'. This was immediately followed by a jolt as my bike came to a standstill. I managed to stay upright, as I had been biking uphill at a rather slow pace, and took a look over my shoulder. What greeted me made my heart sink and brought three or four salty invectives onto my tongue.

My chain had broken and the gears looked like modern art, snarled into the chain and the spokes of the back wheel. Thank fuck I'd been going uphill, not downhill, because I don't even want to think about what might have happened had I been barrelling down a steep hill when the chain broke.

As soon as I got home, I took a good look at the mess. It's not as bad as it looks, but it's not something I can fix on my own, either. Shite. One half of the derailleur frame is bent out of shape and the pin from the broken chain link is gone. The gears and chain have to be changed. Of course, the bike has served me for almost ten years, so I imagine a bit of maintenance is in order. I would have appreciated something a little less dramatic, though. Like, say, the chain snapping OR the gears going wonky. Not both at the same time.

I don't even want to think about what it's going to cost to fix the bloody thing. Fuckwankbuggershittingarseheadandhole.


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