*mutters something incomprehensible*
Mar. 16th, 2003 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeI am up waaaay too early for my own good. Honestly, on the only day of the week I can sleep in, how fair is it to wake up at 9am and not be able to go back to sleep, huh?
Stupid internal alarm clock is apparently set for 9am, which is too late to get to work on time but too early for sleeping in. Feh.
Had a quiet if stressful day at work yesterday, and a v. pleasant evening with the Paternal Unit. Culinarily speaking, it was almost a total bust. He got me to try a new Belgian beer called Delirium Nocturnus (an offshoot of the very nice Delirium Tremens, which is something like 12% alcohol) which was kind of putrid, and then offered me a Guinness, which unfortunately was bottled and didn't taste good at all. He then undercooked the artichokes to the point where they were truly inedible. The steak was mouth-watering, however, and the potatoes were actually not overcooked for once. Dessert was a Corne D'Abondance which sadly had too much crust and not enough chantilly cream, but was still good.
Yes, I know it's a miracle that my father actually cooked, but since my mother's been going on business trips again he's had to start fending for himself, and when I come to dinner he actually tries to cook, which is nice.
I got completely and irrationally upset on the way home. For some reason all the streets for a long way were blocked by the police, preventing me from taking any immediately accessible routes home. I suspect St. Patrick's Day might be responsible. I don't know why I got so upset, but all I wanted was to go home, and no matter where I turned there were police cars preventing me from getting there. By the end I was in tears, for no really good reason except that I was tired and stressed and what was supposed to be a ten-minute drive had taken nearly forty minutes and all I wanted was to go home and hug my cats and go to bed.
I felt better almost immediately upon entering the apartment. It was scary, actually. In the car I was a hysterical mess, and for the first time in months my thoughts had actually seriously turned back to the possibility of cutting (for no apparent reason, like I said), but once I was home nothing seemed quite so dire anymore.
I got online and chatted a bit to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
firewillow about applications to aparecium_rpg, and twenty minutes later I was completely okay again. I don't know what in tarnation (love that word) is making me into such an emotional basket case: I'm taking my meds, doing reasonably okay at my job even if I don't like it, and objectively speaking things aren't so bad. So what the hell is going on?
I hate being such an emotional fuckwit. I hate that small things can turn into a crisis of epic proportions. I have no sense of proportions at all. I mean, other people are dealing with serious problems, like cancer and joblessness and life and death, and here I am bursting into tears because of a road block. *rolls eyes*
My cold is kind of back. It seems to be worse in the mornings, which is odd, as in the past I've tended to feel worse in the evenings once my day is over. I just want it to go away, dammit.
I'm just fed up with feeling sorry for myself. I can't do it for long without feeling like I'm being completely ridiculous, and then I just hate myself without the sorry for myself part. It's not a nice feeling, but sometimes I just don't know how to get rid of it anymore, cognitive therapy or no cognitive therapy.
Stupid internal alarm clock is apparently set for 9am, which is too late to get to work on time but too early for sleeping in. Feh.
Had a quiet if stressful day at work yesterday, and a v. pleasant evening with the Paternal Unit. Culinarily speaking, it was almost a total bust. He got me to try a new Belgian beer called Delirium Nocturnus (an offshoot of the very nice Delirium Tremens, which is something like 12% alcohol) which was kind of putrid, and then offered me a Guinness, which unfortunately was bottled and didn't taste good at all. He then undercooked the artichokes to the point where they were truly inedible. The steak was mouth-watering, however, and the potatoes were actually not overcooked for once. Dessert was a Corne D'Abondance which sadly had too much crust and not enough chantilly cream, but was still good.
Yes, I know it's a miracle that my father actually cooked, but since my mother's been going on business trips again he's had to start fending for himself, and when I come to dinner he actually tries to cook, which is nice.
I got completely and irrationally upset on the way home. For some reason all the streets for a long way were blocked by the police, preventing me from taking any immediately accessible routes home. I suspect St. Patrick's Day might be responsible. I don't know why I got so upset, but all I wanted was to go home, and no matter where I turned there were police cars preventing me from getting there. By the end I was in tears, for no really good reason except that I was tired and stressed and what was supposed to be a ten-minute drive had taken nearly forty minutes and all I wanted was to go home and hug my cats and go to bed.
I felt better almost immediately upon entering the apartment. It was scary, actually. In the car I was a hysterical mess, and for the first time in months my thoughts had actually seriously turned back to the possibility of cutting (for no apparent reason, like I said), but once I was home nothing seemed quite so dire anymore.
I got online and chatted a bit to
firewillow about applications to aparecium_rpg, and twenty minutes later I was completely okay again. I don't know what in tarnation (love that word) is making me into such an emotional basket case: I'm taking my meds, doing reasonably okay at my job even if I don't like it, and objectively speaking things aren't so bad. So what the hell is going on?I hate being such an emotional fuckwit. I hate that small things can turn into a crisis of epic proportions. I have no sense of proportions at all. I mean, other people are dealing with serious problems, like cancer and joblessness and life and death, and here I am bursting into tears because of a road block. *rolls eyes*
My cold is kind of back. It seems to be worse in the mornings, which is odd, as in the past I've tended to feel worse in the evenings once my day is over. I just want it to go away, dammit.
I'm just fed up with feeling sorry for myself. I can't do it for long without feeling like I'm being completely ridiculous, and then I just hate myself without the sorry for myself part. It's not a nice feeling, but sometimes I just don't know how to get rid of it anymore, cognitive therapy or no cognitive therapy.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-03-16 07:48 am (UTC)Sometimes the trigger for a burst of emotional wibbliness can be quite irrelevant and trivial; the 'last straw', you know?
*wraps you up in a hug because he believes in you even when you don't*
no subject
Date: 2003-03-16 07:51 am (UTC)*sniffles miserably and cuddles up to Kay*
Thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-03-16 09:21 am (UTC)It's okay to wibble. Honest.
Remember, too, that you're still riding some pretty choppy waves through the aftermath of certain announcements and realisations. Neh?
*hugs*
Re:
Date: 2003-03-16 09:24 am (UTC)I guess you're right. Still feel kinda like an idiot, though.
*snuggles between both Griff and Kay and feels better*
Still feel kinda like an idiot, though
Date: 2003-03-16 02:18 pm (UTC)Re: Still feel kinda like an idiot, though
Date: 2003-03-16 02:47 pm (UTC)Yes, of course you can join in the snuggles.
*cuddles
Watership Down
Date: 2003-03-16 02:52 pm (UTC)*cuddles gratefully received*
Re: Watership Down
Date: 2003-03-16 03:00 pm (UTC)For some reason I really like that kind of book.
Have you read The Clearing? It's a good read, if a little simplistic. :)
*cuddles more*
Re: Watership Down
Date: 2003-03-16 03:13 pm (UTC)Have you read The Gnole by Alan Aldridge? I love the jacket description an old English fairy tale told to a rock and roll beat... an urban Wind in the Willows (my fav. of all-time.). It's Bilbo Takes Manhattan; it's the ultimate collision of cultures.
More cuddles? I'm honoured! Feeling much better!
Re: Watership Down
Date: 2003-03-16 03:22 pm (UTC)I'll try to track it down for you. :)
Have not in fact read The Gnole. It sounds intriguing. Perhaps someday when I have money again I'll hunt it down on Amazon.
Cuddles are always forthcoming when needed. :)
*cuddlefest*
Driving
Date: 2003-03-16 10:32 am (UTC)