Entry tags:
dividing by zero sounds about right.
So, today abruptly started to suck around dinnertime (which is a late event, for me), and it is not getting much better.
First, Heroes proved that they really want me to die or get frustrated enough to stop watching. I would say "try harder, bitches," but then they would probably kill off everyone I care about, so I will not tempt fate.
Then, I started getting all PMS-y and manic on top of THAT. Which is a fucking awful combination.
I had a brief moment of victory in an otherwise shameful situation... I made a Gears of War fan community for women, because someone on
fandomsecrets stirred up the female gamer population, and I'm a fucking do-gooder. I almost killed something trying to get the header to center properly, so when I actually got it to work, that was pretty fantastic.
But then I was made to feel like a total jackass for something I did a year ago, and I hated myself for it then, and now I'm hating myself for it now, and what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this self-loathing? And on top of that, I'm feeling hypersensitive and ignored and just plain unhappy.
And my rat has cancer, did I mention that? And it just keeps growing, and I don't know at what point it would be more humane to just put her down. It's not like I'm even a very good rat owner, but she's been with me for a long time now, and I still remember the little ratling in the feeder rats tank coming up to sniff my fingers and climb into my hand... :/
And Butcher won't even let me pet him.
I'm all fucked up, completely out of left field, and it sucks, and I still haven't got an appointment with the shrink's office my sister goes to, and it snows here every goddamn night, and. and.
and I really really REALLY wish I could just call up George and go drive around with him and Michele for a couple of hours, or walk down the street and bust in on Jenz and Kelly and Lacy and Thomas, or hike up the Court Street mountain and hang out with Amber and Kevin. Because I fucking miss my friends so much it's like someone's stabbing me in the throat.
Whatever. It's supposed to help to get this stuff out, but I still feel like I want to punch a wall, or break a window, or just take a few ambien and sleep for twenty-four hours in a row.
First, Heroes proved that they really want me to die or get frustrated enough to stop watching. I would say "try harder, bitches," but then they would probably kill off everyone I care about, so I will not tempt fate.
Then, I started getting all PMS-y and manic on top of THAT. Which is a fucking awful combination.
I had a brief moment of victory in an otherwise shameful situation... I made a Gears of War fan community for women, because someone on
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
But then I was made to feel like a total jackass for something I did a year ago, and I hated myself for it then, and now I'm hating myself for it now, and what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this self-loathing? And on top of that, I'm feeling hypersensitive and ignored and just plain unhappy.
And my rat has cancer, did I mention that? And it just keeps growing, and I don't know at what point it would be more humane to just put her down. It's not like I'm even a very good rat owner, but she's been with me for a long time now, and I still remember the little ratling in the feeder rats tank coming up to sniff my fingers and climb into my hand... :/
And Butcher won't even let me pet him.
I'm all fucked up, completely out of left field, and it sucks, and I still haven't got an appointment with the shrink's office my sister goes to, and it snows here every goddamn night, and. and.
and I really really REALLY wish I could just call up George and go drive around with him and Michele for a couple of hours, or walk down the street and bust in on Jenz and Kelly and Lacy and Thomas, or hike up the Court Street mountain and hang out with Amber and Kevin. Because I fucking miss my friends so much it's like someone's stabbing me in the throat.
Whatever. It's supposed to help to get this stuff out, but I still feel like I want to punch a wall, or break a window, or just take a few ambien and sleep for twenty-four hours in a row.