Oh, by the way...

Received my BPAL order; 4 frimps and 6 imps aside, Kindly Moon (Utterly ethereal, an exquisite expression of love: moonflower, lotus root, white gardenia, beeswax, peach blossom, blue musk, stargazer lily, golden osmanthus, ti, sandalwood, hyacinth, ylang ylang, and a touch of vanilla bean.) smells AWESOME. As does Carfax Abbey (The scent of abandoned places, of desolation and emptiness: heavy woods and thin dusty herbs touched by the wafting incense of a nearby chapel.).


I really need a bigger box.

Crawling out of my hole, slowly.

Damn, but I hate daylight.


After 5 hours sleep and some re-medication, I'm doing better today, albeit a bit spacey from the high dosage. (Scaling down 25% for tonight, then back to normal tomorrow.) I don't have the urge to kill anyone, at least. Impressive, since I spent a grand total of about 3 hours in the car today running ONE damned errand. Guh. Ah well. Deposited the one paycheck that made it, which means I'm not borrowing against the Visa company for my car payment this month, and there should be another day's pay coming eventually - it took me until TODAY to find the timecard from last Monday. Bastards. (And this is why, boys and girls, I don't like being unable to pack my own damn desk up. Shit gets misplaced by passive-aggressively hostile types in power positions.) Still haven't heard from anyone, though today was a semi-holiday - I've optimistically set my alarm for 9am tomorrow, assuming I'll need to be up and ready for interviews. Or something.


Creeping back toward the bandwagon of the diet plan - breakfast was 2% milk and a single serving of cheerios, plus heavily latte'd coffee (again, 2%). Lunch, not so much, but a beef dip is better than deep fried chicken bits, or mystery taco meat. Dinner was cheesy Hamburger Helper (not too tasty, but it certainly put me off eating for another few hours). I've managed to keep drinking water when I think about it, and actually resist the drive-thrus I passed in my forays to industrial Anaheim. [Gawd, Disney tourists are stupid. Cars may WANT to stop for you, fools, but going 55mph makes it HARD TO DO SO.] Baby steps. At least I'm pretty sure I'm going forward -- I can't afford Tea and Yoga this month, so... Yeah. Going to have to find my zen and exercise quota elsewhere this month.


In other news on the melodrama front, I watched Episode 100 of Smallville, which dug up a whole shit-ton of sore spots in my psyche from all sorts of hidden crevices I'd rather have left hidden. Doesn't help that our old answering machine has finally died so many times we've had to buy a new one. The tape in that was the only recording left of Dad's voice. (And yes, I'll shamelessly admit to calling the house phone repeatedly after he died, just to hear that voice a few more times.) I guess I've been stuck in some bizarre emotional and mental fight-or-flight mode for so long lately that slowing down long enough for all the other parts of my brain to catch up caused a very tender pile-up. Seriously, I can't remember a time that I didn't have some sort of paranoia toward my emotions and just how they might get out of hand if I ever loosened my grip on them. Which is probably why it took me two years to finally stop actively grieving for Dad. And with that in mind, I'm calling it a night early and hoping that sleep will do its usual cure-all tricks, if only as a temporary patch. Later, peeps.


For those of you feeling like leaving commentary (my inbox is lonely, after all) --

* Where do you see me in a year?
* Five years?
* Ten years?

[Please don't remark something schmaltzy like married with two kids and a white picket fence. Really, I'm trying NOT to look at kitchen knives as anything other than kitchen tools, right now.]