Kick me while I'm down.

I find it rather annoying that the skills I will be learning in 8 short months are not accessible to me, now. I find it even more annoying when I'm faced with work-place issues that require me to have said training.

I was struck dumb last night at work by a tiny Filipino lady. (I think I'm spelling it right in the right context..) I don't know what it is with some people, and their need to absolutely spaz over situations, but it leaves me lacking in knowledge on how to react when someone is acting, to me, like I'm their child who hasn't cleaned their bedroom.

The Appy station wasn't wiped down. It wasn't perfectly stocked. I understand this, but communicating it to me in manners which are polite, softly spoken, and not personally insulting generally allow someone to get a more clear message through.

Instead, I have a woman who is, for all intensive purposes, a dish washer.. berating me for not working 'hard enough' when I busted my ass all day to compensate for an untrained employee. Yapping like a dog in a barrage of squealing insults that sound like they'd been mulled over for hours. Completely out of the blue.

About the time she called me (paraphrased) a lazy ass, was the time I turned around and walked away from her. I knew my stunned reaction would wear off eventually, and I'd get upset. I don't need to get upset like that. It's not professional.

I called Jason afterwards, and he told me what I did was wrong, as well... but given the training and choices in front of me, it was the best reaction I could have had.

Regardless, I know I'll hear about it, tonight. It makes my stomach turn.

A long one..

A friend of mine showed up at my job, today. He waited patiently at a table, ordered himself an Irish Breakfast (over-easy eggs and whole wheat toast) and after I finished making it for him, I came out to say hello. As with all greetings with this particular Bloke of mine, it was a friendly chit-chat, until I mentioned an upcoming tea-party that I assumed, in my ignorance, he'd been invited to. That was when I made a man cry, today.

I felt terrible when I stuffed my foot in my mouth.. unknowingly pressing a painful button in a man whom I know to be lonely.. who has such terrible self esteem as to believe his friends don't need him, or value his company. In a way, I can sympathize with his feelings, which was what made me feel all the more helpless in the situation.

I made him a cake, and tried to send it out to him via waitress, but when she went to bring it out to him, she found the bill paid, and he was gone.

Jason brought me a book home from one of his APICS meetings recently. When I started reading the first couple of chapters, I got an uncomfortable feeling in my gut that it was going to be one of those cheesy 'self help' guides to feeling good about yourself. It turned out to be something a little bit more inspiring, actually.

I'm not quite half through with it, yet.. but already I've noticed a great deal of symptoms labeled within it that I display concerning negative thoughts and feelings that cause me stress. Most people wouldn't consider me a stressful person, I guess. It's probably because I have such a strong 'Poney Up' sense in my mind that I force myself not to display my discomfort to others. That, or I keep telling myself I'm being an idiot.

Regardless, I find it fascinating that my imagination is so capable of causing me anxiety, simply from me thinking of a possible bad outcome for a situation. This, being a pattern that I notice myself falling into quite often, and something that had caused me great mental trauma in the past.

I wonder, however.. if I force myself not to consider a situation capable of turning bad.. will it cause me not to be prepared for if it does? Or, is it merely better to live in blissful ignorance?

Something tells me, I'd rather be blind and happy, then to search the people around me for knives behind their backs. Of course, maybe I should finish reading the book before I come to any concrete conclusions.

I'm tired, and I work tomorrow morning. I guess it's time to turn off this machine and get some sleep. I'll practice on thinking pleasant thoughts before I drift off.

Nausea

So, I had my last Japanese class of the semester yesterday and I'll have the last Graphics class tonight. Then next week is finals. I woke up with the overwhelming sense of anxiety and nausea. It was like a small war to choke it back. I sat down at my desk and looked across it for some sign of my homework like I normally do and when I didn't see any, I was at a loss. It didn't occur to me for some time that I hadn't actually been assigned any homework because the next time we meet, it'll be for the final.

I can't keep being like this at the ends of semesters. I don't sleep well and all I do is worry my little head off about whether or not I've done enough. There's a sort of cold and unacceptable lack of control I feel right at the end of semesters and once I'm done with school, I think I'll be able to get past the idea that I'm ever under scrutiny. That the syllabus defines my worth and my work ethic.

In other news, I've decided to try to do the National Novel Writing Month Challenge for myself. Normally, this happens in November but I'll do it in January. We'll see what I can get out of it. To define: The NaNoWriMo Challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel within a month. This is supposed to be a slap in the face to authors who take a decade to put out a novel of the same length but I'm kinda thinking that it'll be a good mental exercise. I'll roleplay some and get some inspiration and then knock out 3k words or something. I've written more than 3k on the spur of the moment before and I do heavily believe that I can do it again. Once I'm done, maybe I'll get it bound and give it to a few people. Publishing will be right out as I'm confident that it would be rejected all over the place.

After next week, I have three weeks of vacation. From everything. I can get myself back in shape for authorization in the Spring, do some writing, play some WoW. Maybe even get the house in a clean and decent order. Three weeks is a long time and there's a lot I can do with it. Like promise to get up at 8am every day. Even Saturdays.

I'd like that.

Everybody's sick!

I got to jump on the bus, this time, instead of watching everyone around me suffer various illnesses. Not.. that this brings me any comfort, mind you.

I went to the doctor today because every time I -move- I get a piercing pain in my lower left abdomen. It hurts. A fucking lot. After jabbing me with his fingers for a few minutes he decided I have an Ovarian Cyst.

He wrote me up a form to get an ultrasound and sent me on my merry way.

In some sick, perverse part of my mind, I'm actually hoping it's one of those Cysts that grows teeth and hair. Why? I'm fucking FASCINATED by those things. In the event it is (which would be unlikely) I wanna get it put in a jar when they take it out.

I'm gonna name it Larry.

Annie's Haiku of the Day:

I enter in text,
Because the Doctor hasn't.
Journal consumption.

Haiku time. (A post about nothing.)

In my other journal, I normally write a haiku with every post I make. I would like to continue this tradition.. as I once again break the order of things on the Bus:


Annie's Haiku of the Day:

Deep within my heart,
There is a secret longing:
Necrophilia.

I've gone manic, today. So much, to the point where Anya actually asked me if I was okay. I found that moment amusing, simply because I feel no less than great.. which is a long shot from how I should be feeling, this morning. (IE: Hungover)

Sometimes I wonder if these weird, messed up mood swings I am prone to are signs of something more severe. But.. I've managed to live a generally peaceful and privileged life so far, and my outlook is generally good. I never find myself out of control, or unable to cheer myself up. Thusly, I'll relax and keep my knowledge of the flavor of mood swings to help me Role Play a Bipolar Malkavian better. It's smarter than considering myself strange or broken.

Christmas is once again coming. I know it's two months away, but that doesn't make me any less intimidated about it. Generally, I'm a very.. generous person. But with Jason's 1500$ classes coming up, and our overwhelming need to save for my impending schooling, we've realized we have to cut down our 'list' of people we buy things for. Clever consideration has caused me to decide to use my culinary wiles to offer people cheap but delicious Christmas gifts. Apple pies for all! The work involved, however, will be painful.

On a somewhat related topic; I've begun brewing my own wine! (This is why I was drunk last night, mind you.) A 'Regular' at work who is a wonderful woman from Alberta took me out yesterday to obtain the makings of my own Ice wine. I'm using all her equipment, and she is a generous lady (she'll be getting an apple pie.). She explained the horribly simple art of wine making to me, along with letting me sample no less than 5 types of her own wine. I'm -very- excited about this new hobby of mine. Despite what it may cost me to begin obtaining my own equipment, by the next time Fall rolls around, I'm going to have an extreme bounty of Apple, cherry, blueberry, huckleberry, salmon berry, and black berry wines.

Insane, I know.. but then again... today, I'm manic. :D

Growing up.

I got a glimpse of 'life and death' at a very young age through the eyes of my mother and father. I was alive when their grandparents started to die, and perhaps.. a little too young to truly understand the concept of death as a bad thing. Children are funny like that, really. Someone dies, and they smile, happy that their loved one is in 'heaven' before they go back to eating crayons.

When my grandparents began to get sick, one by one.. I noticed a change. I was older. An adult for all intensive purposes. I had pubic hair. I had a job. I could reason somewhat well. When they began to die, it felt a little different to me. Like something really was being taken away, because I never realized that people are mortal, and eventually all you'll really have of them is memories and photographs.. which fade over time.

When my uncle got sick from Testicular Cancer, and a close cousin afflicted with Pancriatic Cancer.. I began to see the pattern. I looked around at the next generation of my family members, and my blood began to chill when I realized.. that the pain and horrible suffering that my parents went through when they watched their grandparents, and then their mothers and fathers pass... it was mine to endure this time around. Only, they were watching their brothers and sisters die, now.

A 'Fact of life' they call it. But as with all other facts of life, things like this are never easy to swallow or accept. But, we do, somehow. Some people are prepared for it, early. Others, not so lucky.

When we live our lives.. terrified of what we might lose, we never really live. I think our time on earth is limited so that we're forced to make the best out of it while we can. Like a game, not everyone scores high points, or reaches a high level.. but I think a lot of us forget, sometimes, to just enjoy the game.

I cannot relate to Justin's pain, at this time. I don't think I ever could. Possibly, because we swallow what life gives us in a different way. I'm grateful he still has time to spend with his mother, however. Some people really aren't lucky enough to see what's ahead.

He really should go watch some Deadwood.

Balance.

So, I posted something unhappy in my other blog. I figure this is the place for happier things to come out. The title certainly brings that to mind. What the fuck was going through my head when I called it 'Effed Up Stories On The Bus'? Oh well. I won't bother to change it.

I played some WoW yesterday to try to get my head back on and respecced into the Protection tree to see what I could do. The results are quite impressive. With 70s falling out of the sky to try and gank me with their bows made of witches and swords crafted from the fallen cockrings of elder gods, I had to put the new spec to the test. What did I find? I can take something seven levels higher than me to 30% before I go down. It's like trying to beat up a rock. Not only is it hard but you look like a retard doing it.

Anyway, I'm sitting at work and wondering when my coworkers are going to come in. Notably, this is around the time the whole building shows up because 9-5 really means 9:30 - 2 and then the bullshitting around starts. I plan on going home tonight and, with any luck, not getting back up again until tomorrow. I've got classwork to do and I kinda want to watch an episode of Deadwood or something. See if it's worth all of Annie's panty twisting. Anya and I have been watching Carnivale pretty closely but haven't had time to catch any new episodes. It's all very impressive, though. Obviously, HBO can't really make a shitty show. They just don't know how.