Corner of Bourbon & Division

I have been infected with the plague, either courtesy of Arthur or xypharan, I'm not sure which. Thus far, luckily, it has limited itself to a sore throat and mild congestion, so I suppose it could be a lot worse. I'm not thrilled about the sore throat, since most colds with me tend to end up in laryngitis. Given that I work exclusively with phones and radios in a fairly loud work environment, this is Not Good™. Oh well.

Work proceeds apace. No news from the RCMP, but I plan on following up on that by Friday if I have no news at all.

Haven't been posting much, but stuff has been getting done. Yesterday was remarkably unproductive, but I plan on compensating for that the rest of the week. The micromanagement is getting re-fitted, I think, to something more workable. Again. *sigh* Well, live and learn.

Had a great weekend, however. Band practice kicked ass, although I was tired and out of sorts and probably not all that pleasant to be around. Spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing at my parents' place, which is apparently something I needed. I've been alternating between reading two books, which is something I used to do a lot.

Sunday was busier, with Meeting in the morning, and curtana's Mutopia game in the afternoon. longpig and xypharan guest-starred, since they were visiting from Toronto. It was quite nice to see them again, and I hope they'll be able to visit again before forthright finds a high-profile job somewhere far away.

We played a game of Arkham Horror, which was a great deal of fun. There are far too many fiddly bits involved in the set-up and how the game is played, and with eight players it took a lot of time to play. However, it was a lot of fun. We cut the game short because of the time, and because poor Arthur woke up and refused to go back to sleep. Also, those of us with jobs the next day were sort of keeling over from tiredness.

Still, good times. :)

I am off to make myself some tea.

There must be some way to organize myself in such a way that I can go to the gym the way I'd planned. I am definitely going to yoga today, but I ended up not going to do the first part of my workout yesterday, and while I thought I could do it before yoga today, looking at my watch now it doesn't look like I'll have time for that.

I feel very guilty for not going more often. I asked for this for Christmas, and I want to go. I just can't get myself out of bed at an hour in the mornings which would make that feasible and still get all the other stuff done that I need to do. In order to do everything I need to do in the morning and still go to the gym, I'd probably have to get up around 7am. Right now, if I'm lucky, I get up at eight. Usually it's closer to eight thirty, and I wander through the morning feeling as though I'm wading through molasses.

Then I tidy up, feed the cats, run my errands, and suddenly it's time to go to work.

I don't have time on the weekends. Sunday mornings are taken up with a meeting, Sunday afternoons are blocked off for gaming, Sunday evenings are reserved for my parents. Saturday morning and early afternoon is band practice, which essentially cuts my day in half, makes me have to write off my morning, and leaves me with part of Saturday afternoon and Saturday evening free. Saturday afternoons and evenings are my only time off in the week, the only time I ever get to see my friends, and I don't especially relish the idea of sacrificing that in order to go work out, as silly and selfish as that may sound.

So that leaves me with no time to myself at all, and even less time to go to the gym. My parents paid for it, it was a present, I want to go, and I don't want them to feel as though they paid all that money only to have me ignore it. That's not it at all, and I really don't need the extra guilt these days. It's not like I don't walk around with enough of it to begin with.

I don't know what to do about this anymore. I'd try to buddy up with someone as a way to force myself, but most of the people I know have lives and aren't going to the gym in the middle of the morning. They go when normal people go, in the evenings or whatever, when I can't go.

I need an extra few hours in the morning, or else some magical way of being able to cope with only five hours' sleep, which I can't do right now. Hell, I've tried lately, and my body just. won't. let. me. If I set my alarm for seven, I'll switch off the alarm clock and sleep until eight thirty. Eight thirty is my default wake-up time: even on days when I haven't set my alarm, that's when I'm up. If I were going to bed earlier, then waking up earlier wouldn't be a problem, but if that were the case I would also not be on this schedule to begin with.

Do the words "catch-22" ring any bells?

In conclusion? Argh!

The new job is eating my brain.

This is both good and bad. The good part is that it's stimulating and I get to learn new stuff and interact with new people. So far things are still interesting.

It's closer to what I was doing at Erb Transport than my job at the bank, in that there's a lot of calling up of clients involved. I am pleased to report that I am getting over myself a whole lot faster than I did at Erb, where it took me months to work up the nerve to cold-call people, even when there were perfectly legitimate reasons for calling them. I'm still a little nervous about it now, mostly because of this slightly panicked feeling I have that I don't know what I'm talking about, but I predict that in another week or possibly two I'll be comfortable enough to handle just about any kind of phone call (incoming or outgoing) that comes my way.

My bosses are very, very nice people. I've met two out of three, since the third is on maternity leave. The two remaining bosses are both men. I guess I'll call one of them Operations!Boss and the other one Office!Boss, at least until I come up with better names for them. Those fit well enough for the moment.

Office!Boss is the one I see most often. The name is something of a misnomer, since he's often out on jobs as well, but he deals a lot more with stuff happening in the office, and he handles all the advertising and the "business" end of the business. As I mentioned, he and I seem to have a similar kind of work ethic/way of doing things, although our senses of humour are extremely different. I suspect that under the macho Italian exterior he's something of a softie. Well-hidden, but a softie. I shall keep you posted on that as I get to know him better.

The first few days this week I was lucky enough to get a lift into work with ashforestwalker, which meant that my mornings weren't quite as brutal as they might otherwise have been. So today I took public transit to work for the first time. It wasn't too bad, and I even got a seat on the bus about halfway through the route. That being said, having to be out of the house at 6:20 was kind of brutal for someone who, up until last week, was accustomed to getting up at 7:00. Gah. Much like I had to at Erb, I am now going to bed earlier than my parents (!), around 10pm or earlier if I can manage it. There's simply no other way for me to survive right now. I've been sleeping like the dead, too, which is a nice change.

The only night I didn't get to bed until about 11:30 or so was Wednesday, because that was the night of my writing jam with toughlovemuse. That by itself wouldn't have been enough to really upset my day, except that I finished "The Sparrow" that evening. After the requisite fifteen minutes of sobbing, because the last fifty pages of the book are just. that. hard. to take, I spent the rest of the night having very vivid nightmares and more neutral dreams involving themes from the book. Gah. Badness. Mary Doria Russell is an evil, evil, brilliant woman. This book just took my breath away. I'm so glad I'm in this book club: I'm reading things it would never have occurred to me to try otherwise.

I was going to go to my dance club tonight for the first time since July, but I got home and A) was tired and B) got a phone call from the lovely and multitalented luvenditti, who is now back in Montreal after her triumphant stay in Toronto to pursue her dream of entering the publishing business. Anyone who knows of a job in the industry should send it her way, incidentally: she is fantastic, and looking for just such an opportunity. /end plug

So now I am staying home instead and going to bed earlyish once more. Tomorrow I have band practice, and since owldaughter is in Toronto this weekend (hence why I got no lift this morning with ashforestwalker), I have to make my way to the space by BMW (bus/metro/walk). This means getting up at a decent hour (maybe eight thirty or maybe earlier, if I want to have a leisurely breakfast and check LJ and all that good stuff) in order to get there in good order.

I haven't mentioned how pleased I am that I'm going to get a tax refund for my bus passes. Really, this pleases me no end. Not only am I no longer paying for my car, but I will be getting money back for my passes. Yayness!

So, another exciting update about the life of Phnee. I keep thinking of pseudo-philosophical things to post about during the day (mostly while I'm on the bus), or noticing small things I want to write about, but I don't seem to have the energy for it by the time I get home. Kind of sad, really.

Oh, well, here's one thing: I keep seeing butterflies. This is kind of rare for me, so it makes me very happy when I can catch sight of one. I've seen two in the past week, so maybe they come out early in the morning. They're the kind of butterfly that exist in this area that mimic the Monarch butterfly in order to fool predators into thinking they're poisonous. I saw one flutter up to the roof of my house on Tuesday morning and sit there, opening and closing its wings, for a few moments before taking off again and flitting out of sight. The other was when I was on the bus this morning, paused at a bus stop: it flitted by my window, perhaps a foot or so away from me, and fluttered prettily in mid-air before continuing on its way.

That's all for now, then. Happy trails!

Yesterday was pretty gruesome at work. Here's a tip: if you have more than two people in the same office who think they're the centre of the universe, things will NOT run smoothly. The less said about my day at the office, the better. I've already ranted to some very nice and forbearing people about it, so I'll leave it at that.

Went dancing after being away from my club for about a week. Well, I was there on Tuesday, but I skipped last Friday. Had fun. I always do. Very few people, as there was an event somewhere else in town keeping people busy. Did not see the Mahones, as their appearance date is supposedly in August now.

Got to the rehearsal space at 10am (that's early for me on a Saturday) and nailed the intro to "Enter Sandman." karine and owldaughter showed up at 11am, and we practiced both the intro to "Enter Sandman" (I showed off my l33t n3w sk1llz) and then beat "J'Veux Pas Vieillir" into bloody submission. Booyah!

I then went through a whole lot of Excedrin Migraine to get rid of the foot-long white-hot needle someone decided to stab into my right eye. I really think it's the smell of hopps that's doing it. I can't think of anything else that might be provoking this.

I decided to reward myself for being awesome by going to see "Pirates of the Caribbean 2," which was a lot of fun, but not nearly as good as the first one. Also, ( Mild spoiler ) Anyway, I had fun.

Spent some time at Indigo ogling the books, and managed not to get a parking ticket while I was at the movies. This is the problem with parking downtown and going to see a movie. Movies last over two hours, unless they're made by Pixar. Parking meters have a time limit of two hours. So if I'm going to see a movie, my meter will run out about half an hour to an hour before the end of the movie. Meh. However, the parking gods were merciful this time around and I was spared. I am pleased.

The staff at Indigo were completely useless. I asked a likely-looking boy for recommendations for a new mystery writer. Unfortunately, he was going on break and foisted me off onto his complete nitwit of a co-worker. She wandered vaguely around the mystery section and rattled off names at random to me. Every time I pressed her for more details, she would confess to not having read anything by the author she'd just recommended. She eventually sheepishly admitted to not reading mysteries at all, but was recommending stuff based on what she'd heard from other people.

Now, okay. I can understand not being a fan of mystery novels. However, if that's the case, why didn't she say so to begin with? If I'd known, I wouldn't have wasted my time with her. Sheesh. This girl was also none too bright anyway.

Spent the evening with the Parental Units. It was surreal: my father turned on the television (which happens once in a blue moon with him anyway) and discovered "Godzilla vs Mothra: the battle for Earth" playing. He decided to watch. Soon enough, we were all mesmerized by the mind-blowing badness of it all including the singing Japanese pixie twins and the piss-poor special effects of doom. I can't even begin to reproduce my parents' commentary. Even if I could, you probably wouldn't believe me. My mother thought that Mothra was "such a lover! Look, he's just like a teddy bear!" and yet was rooting for Godzilla to win, because he had "such a nice smile."

My father liked the singing Japanese pixie twins (who were, disturbingly enough, kept in a cage by one of the heroes). We were all somewhat perplexed by Mothra at the beginning, but after he spun a giant artificial cocoon the movie... umm, I hesitate to say that it began to make more sense, but at least the creature looked like a moth after that.

It was bizarre, but fun.

The rest of the Satursay-night lineup was pure crap. Why oh why is television so crappy lately?

Okay, bed now.

Oh, look: it's Saturday afternoon and I have a migraine.

It's just the mild beginning of a migraine, so I'm going to kill it with Excedrin and a nap. However, this confirms my theory that something at the rehearsal space is triggering my migraines. I suspect it's either the quality of the air (not very good) or the pervasive smell of hopps from the brewery next door that's doing it. I've always been hypersensitive to smells, especially chemical ones, and usually any kind of cheap perfume will set me off, so it's not really a surprise after all.

Bleh.

Well, forewarned is forearmed, right? Next week I'll see what I can do to take preventive measures beforehand.

Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight. Will see how things work out.

Yes, I wrote all six of the drabbles that were requested of me, and they are now up at secret_history.

fearsclave, you may see a familiar face if you read the one elanya requested (she wanted Technocracy, so I of course was happy to oblige her). Just sayin'.


I also posted an extra installment of Conflation, which will go up every two weeks on Thursdays, because I have decreed it so. Hah!


In other words, I spent most of today writing when I should have been screening leases for discrepancies. But hey, I still got my work done and I wrote fiction. Also, I practiced the drums, and at rehearsal we beat the instrumental of "J'Veux pas vieillir" into bloody submission, and lo, all was right with the world once more.

Hokay. This weekend was jam-packed with stuff and things and action, so I think I ought to record it for posterity.

:::ETA:::

Holy shit this got long. Cut-tagging now for your convenience.

:::/ETA:::

( Friday )

( Saturday Morning )

( Saturday Afternoon and Evening )

( 'It's the Sunday morning after...' )

And that's it for this entry. I think I shall make a separate one about 24 so that it doesn't get lost in all the verbiage.

I slept until 11am. I only got up because I had to phone foi_nefaste to coordinate Bubble Tea tonight. Otherwise, I might just as easily have slept another hour or five.

The migraine, thanks be to all the gods, seems finally to be gone. Excedrin and lots of sleep seem to have killed it.

I continued re-reading A Clash of Kings for a while, then spent half an hour just sitting with the cats on my lap. Really, there's nothing like having three purring cats draped over you, just being quiet. George was off wreaking havoc somewhere else. He's not especially cuddly, although he's very friendly.

Sometime this week I shall go in search of A Feast for Crows. I have heard very different reviews coming from everywhere, so I have decided to see for myself. Not that I wouldn't have read it anyway, but generally speaking I know what to expect from my friends' opinions. This time, I am in the dark. It'll be a surprise.

Today I shall attain my projected wordcount of 50,000 words. I have four and a half hours before I see foi_nefaste, so I figure that's enough time to finish, if I stop procrastinating. ;)

To my great surprise and joy, I found a shiny green bag waiting for me outside this morning, hanging on my mailbox. It is to squee! See, I've been using a green sparkly paper bag to carry my drumsticks and other percussion-related paraphernalia, but the bag was getting, well, a little battered. So it seems that karine got inspired and actually sewed me a bag yesterday! How exciting is that? w00t!

I also caved and bought new drum skins for the bass and the snare on Saturday. The bass got torn since the last gig, we're not sure how but we suspect it was a moving-related mishap aggravated by temperature changes, and the snare has been looking much the worse for wear for a while now. I shall be bringing both with me to practice on Tuesday, and then I get to figure out how to replace skins on a drum. Woo!

That's it for now, I think. Now I shall go make something to eat, and then think about writing those missing 2,000-odd words for NaNoWriMo.

No, I'm not talking about MacDonald Hall, although I could probably use the help of that particular committee. Heck, they could cause earthquakes and arrange marriages. Nothing could stop them. :D

Anyway, the committee had an argument again this morning, which culminated in my going to work in spite of feeling like I was hit by a truck and then dumped in a river.

Now, the committee is debating whether I should go to the thing I had planned tonight. The first meeting for competitive line dancing. The debate is getting heated.

"I really want to go."

"You're sick. Go home and go to bed."

"But it's the first meeting ever! What if I miss something important?"

"You can ask K tomorrow, or when you next see him."

"What if he's not around?"

"Then you can go next Monday and find out then."

"But what if it's vital that I go to the first meeting in order for roles and stuff to be decided?"

"Then you'll just have to join up some other time. You won't do them any favours if you drop dead during practice."

"It's a cold. I won't drop dead."

"The cold is kicking your ass, and I was speaking figuratively."

"But I really want to go!"

"I cannot stress enough how bad an idea this is. You have dancing on Tuesday and Thursday, a NaNoWriMo meeting on Wednesday, band practice on Friday, and a gig on Saturday. You don't have time to be sick for the whole week. Tonight is really the night you can afford to take off."

"*sulk*"

"*shrug* Your funeral, man."

Meh. Tonight I shall renew my acquaintance with my good friend NyQuil.

So, yes, many thanks to ashforestwalker for the nifty advice on pressure points he gave me this past Saturday. Now I no longer want to throw myself through the nearest window headfirst due to migraine badness. Sure, the migraine isn't gone, but it's tolerable. Yay! Yay for tolerable!

I didn't get home until late last night, then collapsed in a heap on my bed and passed out until my alarm rang this morning. Meh. I should check my lottery ticket, to see if by any chance I'm walking around as a millionaire. Fat chance, sadly. I really wouldn't mind winning 14 million dollars, or, heck, even a few thousand wouldn't hurt at this point.

I'm thinking of heading out to the practice space on Thursday, if not tonight. Tonight will depend on the migraine. I have learned through bitter experience that migraine + drum practice = BAD.

Yes, dear reader, I'm one of those masochistic souls who will keep going until the pain is blinding before calling it quits. Otherwise, I'd never get anything done. When you've had migraines since you were seven years old, you learn to cope.

I also have lots more writing to do. I didn't catch up on Beyond the Pale this weekend, although I have a few installments that only need a bit of tweaking before I put them up. There's one which I think I'm going to rewrite entirely from a different point of view, because it doesn't work the way it is now.

...


Oh, crap. I have a post to write for Bluebook, too. Nearly forgot.

Can we tell I'm procrastinating on this report for work? There is nothing I'd like to work on less right at this moment. Bleah.