empyreus: (foolish)
( Oct. 9th, 2013 07:42 pm)
Things that make me sad: the fact that [livejournal.com profile] yuletide no longer makes me excited. Now I just feel worried and anxious and guilty when the brainstorming and signup posts go up. Why? Because it reminds me of how badly I've lost faith in my skills. Logically, I know I haven't suddenly turned into the worst writer in the world, but it doesn't help. The little voice in the back of my head that says "There are a thousand new writers and they're all cleverer than you and they all know the fandom better than you" keeps getting louder when it should be getting weaker. It makes me feel old, too, because not being able to be excited over challenges and new fandoms also makes me feel like I can't keep up with fandom. Everything moves so fast, and everything is ficced/vidded/capped/gifsetted/meta'd within what feels like seconds. And I stand there thinking "Oh. I've already missed the train on new stuff and can't do anything with it/inspired by it because it's old hat by now", and for some inexplicable reason it makes me feel nervous and inadequate.

I feel old. And out of touch. And like I'm on the outside looking in. And like I should just shut up instead of complaining about non-issues.
Well, today could have started better. I was watching the morning news when my digital receiver decided it would stop working. Suddenly, it rebooted itself, then got stuck loading and reloading the software installer endlessly. Nothing helped: unplugging it was no good, unplugging the antenna cable was no good, removing the channel/cable card was no good. I called the importer, got bounced around in tech support, and finally got told to take the receiver to my cable company and ask them for help. Er... okay. I went to my cable company and completely stumped them. They'd never seen an error like that and told me it shouldn't even be able to get stuck in a loop like it did. They confirmed what I'd suspected: that the receiver was totally fucked and should be discarded. I clenched my teeth, thanked them and headed into town to buy a new receiver. I ended up buying a fairly cheap, basic model, since all I want is to be able to watch tv.

While dallying around in the stores, I was approached by no less than four people and asked for help. Wat. I ended up helping three old ladies and an older gentleman find the right type of vacuum cleaner bag. (Wtf?) I don't know why they, one after another, approached me to ask for help. (They were on their own, not in a group.) Sure, I was standing right by the shelf, but I really didn't look like an employee. Huh. Maybe I just looked friendly and approachable (and/or knowledgeable in the art of finding the right make and model). The amusing thing was that the older gentleman (probably in his early seventies) started flirting with me in this delightfully restrained way. It was... bewildering but cute.

In other annoying news: the front tire on my bike has a slow leak, and I need to fix that before tomorrow, since I really don't want to walk to work tomorrow morning. I'm not worried about fixing the puncture, because I've done it before and because it's easy, but I am a bit worried I won't be able to tighten the nuts and bolts holding the front wheel to the fork properly (hence risking it suddenly coming loose). I should be able to do it, though. I mean, I'm a strong girl. *g* And I have a brand spanking new flex-head socket wrench.

And now, time for coffee. Mmm caffeine.
empyreus: (Default)
( Jan. 7th, 2009 08:20 pm)
I've been silent for the past few days mostly because I've been feeling a bit meh and run-down. I suspect it's just residual holiday stress (you all know how I tend to run myself into the ground) and more looming academic stress, but knowing the probable cause doesn't really take the edge off it.

However, there have been glimmers of light in the othewise stress-filled gloom: I has LotR movie magazines! Thank you so much, [livejournal.com profile] just_ann_now, you saved my day! :) *hugs*

Oh, and there's been another reason for the silence: my wireless internet has been acting like an absolute bastard for the past few days, and has either been spontaneously disconnecting itself or refusing to connect. Or, rather, refusing any incoming traffic. The usb modem connects like it should, tells me there's either HSDPA or WCDMA coverage with a signal strength of around 95%, but point blank refuses to download anything, so I have to sit staring at the infuriating yellow triangle hovering over the network icon in the taskbar. And this appears to be restricted to my flat. I visited my parents yesterday and hauled the laptop along just to see if the problem persisted in a different location. It didn't. No problems connecting there, but as soon as I got back to my own place and tried to connect, hello zero connectivity. This morning, my intarwebz went down and back up at the drop of a hat. Now it's up, but an hour ago it went down for no reason and stayed down for about fifteen minutes. Argh. Plz to stop right now.
empyreus: (got to be joking)
( May. 9th, 2008 02:01 pm)
Argh, this whole day (and week) is one big Do Not Want. The deadline for the interim report (thesis) is looming like a giant big looming thing, and I'm so stuck on the whole thing that I want to email the (temporary) supervisor and ask if I can just reschedule and present the interim report in August or something.

I've had most of this week to work on it, but I seem to have made very little progress. I keep getting stuck in the theory, snarling myself into the strands until I suddenly realize either that a) I can't use it, or b) I've misunderstood it. When I'm not getting stuck in theory, my neighbours try to drive me mad by hosting what seems to be a free-form fight in the stairwell. And did I mention we have craftsmen sandblasting the house? >_< If you think it's loud when you pass the house being blasted, try being inside it.

I have until Monday, granted, but I have work tomorrow, plus friend and family obligations that I'd feel terrible about skipping and which all eat time like mad. :( All those things considered, I technically have to finish this today. Halp.

(Sekrit note in Finnish for [livejournal.com profile] littlemimm and [livejournal.com profile] tackerama: eli näillä näkymin tulen taas käymään lauantaina mutten voi istua iltaa. :( Helvetti että mä vihaan omaa kykenemättömyyttä. Onhan mulla tekstiä, mutta se on niin sotkuista että itkettää.)
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.
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: (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.)
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?
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?
empyreus: (do not want)
( Jul. 31st, 2007 09:59 pm)
Just. What.

That's not my Boromir!

*winces* He looks so... simian. I also suspect his cloak has been lined with an old curtain, that he's wearing jeans and that he's stolen the boots off a drag queen.

Do not want.
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.
*burp* After work today, my two workmates and I went out for dinner courtesy of the Big Boss. I'm now stuffed to the gills, and though I want to have a cup of coffee right now, I'm afraid it might cause me to burst. My stomach is so full I still feel slightly ill despite having eaten over three hours ago.

My things for tomorrow are mostly packed (as well they should be: my train leaves at 6.22 a.m.), but I need to sort out my papers. I also need to do the dishes, because if I don't, they'll be greeting me at the door when I return on Saturday afternoon. I don't want to do either, because I have no energy left.

Argh, I need to go to bed soon, because I have to get up at five at the latest. Do not want! And I don't want to sit around trying to kill two hours of stopover time, either. Thankfully, I have an hour of free time between arriving and the registration at the seminar, so I'll probably have a shower and try to squeeze in a half-hour nap.

I'll try to do a run-by update or two at the hotel, but I can't promise anything. I'll most likely end up collating a monster post afterwards, like I did last year.
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*
*unclenches fists long enough to type up the entry*

A bunch of fucktards people have been going at a single tree in the yard with a chainsaw since ten to eight in the morning. It's now half past ten. They're still sawing.

It's a single.bloody.tree. It's not uncommonly big, just an average-sized birch. Unless they're taking off each branch and twig individually, it cannot take that long. For fuck's sake, reducing it to firewood doesn't take that long. I've seen bigger trees get cut down and I've helped cut down trees myself, and I know it doesn't take that long. Not even when quarters are a bit cramped like they are in our yard.

I had intended to sleep in, because I don't have anything major planned before one (doctor's appointment, then off to work), but no, I can't have nice things. Hence I'm sitting here trying not to clench my jaw and trying not to storm out into the yard and commandeer the fucking chainsaw. You'd think they were trying to torture a confession out of the tree at the speed they're going. Just cut the fucking thing down, split it into transportable chunks and haul it away. Don't piss about with the chainsaw and saw in fifteen-second bursts at unpredictable intervals.

ARGH. Just take your fucking chainsaw and fucking shove it. Stop annoying everyone within earshot before someone inflicts pain on you in terribly vivid ways that I have trouble describing because I'm so fucking irritated. Just fuck off, you fucking tossers.
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: (Sharpe)
( Feb. 20th, 2007 10:06 pm)
Today's been a bit of a bumpy ride, really. The interpreting exercises were much more challenging than they usually are, and I felt completely wrung out after a half-hour Swedish-to-Finnish consecutive turn. Mind, the subject was legislature, something I'm not all that good at in either language. I nearly gave up once or twice, having snarled myself into a sentence or misunderstood where the speaker was going with a particular point, but I gritted my teeth and soldiered on. My hands shook the whole time, but I held on to my trusty clipboard (great when you're taking notes while standing) so hard my hand hurt and managed to look calm.

After the lecture, I had to bike to one of the local video stores to rent a few Swedish movies to watch with my students tomorrow, and as I prepared to bike back to campus to attend another lecture, I heard an ominous 'thunk' as I mounted the bike and began pedalling. Yes, the back tire was flat. I swore heartily, then remembered there was a bike repair show nearby and wheeled the bike there. Long story not-so-short: I had to walk back to campus, attend three quarters of the lecture, then walk back into town to get my bike before the repair shop closed and also pay 40e for the pleasure of having the back tire changed and my breaks adjusted. (To be fair, the repairman also changed the brake pads, something that really needed to be done.) And boy, had the brakes been adjusted. I'm used to the front brake being really loose, meaning I have to brake hard to get it to work, and when I biked off home, I assumed the brakes would still be a bit loose despite having been adjusted. (They were a bit floppy when I'd last had them fixed at a different repair shop.) I was wrong. When I had to brake at a zebra crossing and grabbed hold of both brakes rather hard out of habit, I nearly went flying over the handlebars. The front brake is now so sensitive you barely have to close your fingers around it to have the brakes slam on. Takes some getting used to.

The weather was so cold that my legs felt like they belonged to someone else when I finally made it home. My cheekbones also hurt fiercely, despite the fact that I wore my scarf pulled up over my nose and cheeks. It's only about -18°C here, but the wind chill makes it murderous. And they've promised -18° and 4 m/s for tomorrow, which equals -26,5°C of wind chill. My class(es) begins at 08.15, meaning I have to get up really early, and runs to 15.15. Do not want.

However, all was not bad today, as I also managed to write almost 500 words of challenge ficlets (for the old requests, you'll be glad to hear) and played around with ideas for the new ones. And the lentil stew I made when I came home turned out excellent. And I found a terrifically geeky old (well, seventies) book on word elements in modern biochemistry for only 20 cents in the used book sale bin at the library. Stop laughing. I like etymology.

I'll leave you with a snip from a BBC article that amused me for no other reason than that the medical professional has a lovely name:
Professor Richard Sharpe, principal investigator at the MRC Human Reproductive Sciences Unit in Edinburgh said the study was yet another indication that naturally occurring plant products can have an effect on human hormones.

Professor, eh? Dick Sharpe, gone from havercake to hormone specialist... Did Baird lure him to Edinburgh? (It's even funnier due to the fact that I was taking a break from typing up Sharpe fic notes when I read the article.)


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