Farewell, you shithole.
Tag Archives: frustration
An off-day day off
Today was a monster, and so I’m recovering by doing some cleaning (yes, recovering by doing some cleaning; that’s a bit sad). I know I should do some creative writing, but my brain is a stagnant pool of disappointment. There is some good news, however, in the form of having a super-huge, super-secret project…that I can’t talk about because it’s a secret. It is, however, related to tomorrow’s planned post about making gifts out of creative stuff (writing, drawings, whatever). Serious business. Tonight, however, can be a small failure, no thanks to my mood and my laptop being an uncooperative assclown. Alternatively, I budgeted for days like this in my Hundred Days of Blogging madness.
Instead of enjoying my writing (hey, I can hope), here’s some music that helps me along as I write (and through life in general). Naturally, I claim no ownership of any of this music. It just helps keep me sane on days like today (when the internet apparently only works on devices I DON’T NEED THE INTERNET TO WORK ON; I’m looking at you, Wheatley, you lazy piece of circuitry). Anyway, onto the good stuff.
Coldplay – Viva la Vida
St. Vincent – Psychopath
Metric – Speed the Collapse
MSMR – Fantasy
(This one’s a bit trippy, but I love the song all the same.)
Delerium – Stargazing
Fifty days in, and fifty to go
Has it really been fifty days already? Because it feels like it’s been about a thousand. While I may not have created a fully-fledged blog post for each day, I’m still breaking my brain for content that isn’t entirely recycled and stale.
This was not an easy challenge, and I think I’m going to need to sit myself down and have a long, very serious monologue in my own general direction about why this would’ve probably been a hair easier if it were planned out a little more. It has definitely had its fun moments, though, and this has been enough hard work to make me appreciate the fact that I need to keep moving as a writer no matter how lazy or tired I’m feeling. Even if it’s just a little bit of work for the day, I still end up feeling better than I would had I just done absolutely nothing.
Standard warning: this is a very introspective post, which no doubt happened because I’ve had too much time alone with my thoughts (and they’re treacherous little bastards). Continue reading
One Hundred Days of Blogging – Day Twenty-Seven
My laptop returned home today, and the actual problems were far worse than initially thought. Instead of my graphics card being dead, it was apparently a bad motherboard and hard drive disk. The BestBuy employee asked if I had an unexpected power outage or something, but it was just my laptop very suddenly and violently shitting the bed. Yikes.
Thanatos has been renamed Wheatley because 1) it better fits the Portal and Portal 2 themed names I have for my Surface 2 (Aperture Surface) and my desktop (GLADESKTOP) and 2) it’s a more fitting name given how derp my laptop has been so soon. I’m not looking forward to resurrecting all of the files from my external hard drive, and I’m fairly certain I lost a couple short stories and other projects forever. Like my forever-backburnered first episode of the Misadventures in Podcasting podcast.
As a quick aside: it’s very difficult to type when a small kitten keeps hopping onto the couch and dancing across my laptop keyboard. She wandered back into the living room just as I was typing that and did it again. Precious little bundle of mischief.
Anyway, time to get moving on this. I’ve got my standard Monday headache, like clockwork. Continue reading
The What-If and Why-Not-Me monsters are out in full-force tonight
Or “I should really be getting some sleep, but drowsy medications (save for Nyquil) have the opposite effect on me,” with just a dash of “I feel guilty for what I perceive as neglecting my writing, and Misadventures in Fiction.”
Let me start by getting this out of the way: I do not handle being sick well at all. I’m a total wimp about illness. Case in point? I have an upper respiratory infection, but my behavior suggests a diagnosis of Ebola, primary amoebic meningoencephalitis (PAM for short. Google it, and be amazed/horrified.), and a dash of bird-swine-fish flu for good measure. I can’t stress enough how I should probably be sleeping right now.
There’s a murky, unpleasant place in my mind, full of generally unpleasant things. Most people have similar places somewhere in their thoughts (I’m fairly confident in this statement, anyway). On nights like this, some of its denizens–covered in sharp spines, and equipped with sharp claws and rotten, twisted fangs–creep out and torment me. There are plenty of different variations on these wee mental beasties. Continue reading
Phil's Misadventures In Fiction 