Yay insomnia (part 3 or 4 of many to come, I suspect)

Jesus H. Christ on a flaming pogo stick!

Is there no justice in the world?

*pauses to rail at the heavens and then realises it's pointless and so stops*



Bugger.

It's damned hard to rail against the injustice of it all when one doesn't take oneself all that seriously.

This time I can at least readily attribute it to work-related stress. Stupid job.

Somehow I don't feel better knowing that. I guess enlightenment isn't the answer to all my problems. Damn Kant and Rousseau and the lot of them! Give me Voltaire any day! I need a healthy dose of cynicism in my life. Wait... never mind. Maybe Sartre?

The problem with all those people is that they were optimists, deep down inside.

Christine said I was an optimist the other day. She and my mother were teasing me about it, because Christine's mother is also an optimist. Doomed to eternal disappointment, as they put it, fueled anew by fresh hope. It's kind of like a mild form of bi-polar disorder. Or maybe not.

Incidentally, I got an email from her tonight saying that she was going to be phoning her former boss (who's still boss of a translating firm here in Montreal, conveniently located downtown, I might add) either this Friday or next Monday to see if she can hook me up with an interview. *crosses fingers*

Actually, I'm really upset still. Was massively upset at work (although I managed not to cry at the office! Go me!), and thought that I was mostly over it when I got home, thanks to my handy-dandy Cognitive Therapy techniques. Huh. Haven't used that little guy in a while. I've missed him.

Nothing doing. Somewhere about 45 minutes ago I dissolved into a sobbing mess. I haven't cried like that in... years. Not since my dog died, actually. I curled up into a ball on my bed and sobbed until I couldn't breathe. Pan-Pan came and snuggled next to me and was an absolute woobie, putting up with me gasping and shuddering and carrying on as though my heart were breaking and basically making a spectacle of myself. Well, I would have made a spectacle of myself if anyone had been around to see it. If my neighbours were listening they probably heard: our walls are quite thin. Hmm. That emoticon doesn't quite convey it. It's too quiet. But the other one just looked silly. *rolls eyes at self* Because the other emoticons look just so serious and respectable. Good one, Daphné.

Eventually I pulled myself together enough to get out of bed and head for the Kleenex box. I then told myself that if I was going to be an insomniac, and a weepy insomniac at that, I might as well do something "useful" and update my LiveJournal, yet again. firewillow pointed out to me before I shooed her off to bed that I hadn't told anyone about my potential translation job, and told me I should post about it. So there you go.

Speaking of firewillow, I'm reading one of the fantasy novels she lent me a while back, named "Sir Apropos of Nothing," which is alternately amusing me and irritating me to no end. Amusing because it's one of those antihero-I'm-just-a-scoundrel-who's-out-for-number-one-but-I-just-happen-to-be-in-the-right-place-at-the-right-time-to-look-like-a-hero type of books, and vastly annoying because it's supposedly set in a medieval fantasy-type setting, but the characters all seem to speak in modern-day slang. I ask you, how many medieval knights "beat the crap out of" someone? And that's a mild example.

Still, the story is interesting enough, even if at times I hate our antihero so much I feel like throwing the book against the wall. Actually, that's part of the reason I'm still reading it: if the author can make me engage that much with a character in spite of using God-awful-sounding prose, then there must be something to it.

I think I may make myself a cup of tea and head back to the book. Or maybe coffee. At this point, nothing's going to help so I may as well indulge a little bit. I wonder if I actually still have coffee in the apartment?

Ooh, and I found a pretty good "wibbling" emoticon, for those of you who are interested:

It looks a little too scared to be quite right, but the movement is down pat.

Bah...

Irony of ironies: I think I'm getting sick. Have an insomnia-and-stress-induced migraine now, and my throat is really really sore.

Someone (I don't remember who, to be honest) told me a while back (must have been shortly before Christmas) that I really ought to stop whining so much in my LiveJournal. While the reasonable reaction would be to tell them (whoever they are, when my brain decides to let me remember) to shove their opinion where the sun don't shine, I have a sneaking suspicion that they're kind of right. No one really wants to hear my self-pitying moaning, and the only reason I post it here is to have people (virtually) pat me on the head and go "Poor Phnee, we love you anyway."

So, I'm still going to post it, but I will at least put it behind a cut, so that whoever it was who spoke to me can feel vindicated. Actually, I really wish I could remember who it was: it would help me a little in determining whether or not their opinion is worth keeping.

Without further ado: ( Self-pitying moan behind the cut tag )