Well, damn. Out of gold again. Once again too much month and not enough paycheck. But it's okay. I'll call my off-shore banker and have her move some funds around. I swear I keep a lit match in my pockets, so many holes get burned through them. Okay, this is so not a problem, this is happy -- my phone has been bugging out for some time, and it is my technological life-line: during any break I have at work, I can't check messages from my family on Facebook, nor approve a comment on my blog, nor jot down any personal writing I may have on my work laptop, because "they" will own it, so I must have my phone/mini-computer. To say it's frustrating to be in a paradoxically challenging position (I am in charge of helping others be tech-savvy) and then not having half of my tools to do so is well, quite frankly maddening at times. (This makes me think of a comment of a player friend who has recently visited China, so I guess I shouldn't complain about constraints of information.)
To repair this technological grappling hook (aka cell phone), I used a recent boon to purchase an i-phone, complete with Siri. I am having trouble with my i-tunes, and there is some issue with my bits and pixels being strewn all over the Interwebs, like abandoned flies and beetles, sucked-out carcasses of discarded data.
So, I'm a mess. Or my data is. I am data, therefore I am?
So much of a mess, on my two accounts, I need to clean up and stream-line a bit. Having two accounts is excessive. I log on and see players logging onto Diablo, and most players who wanted the MoP beta now have it, including me. The invitation is sitting in one of ten email accounts like some lost ball invitation, and the shoes don't fit. As I am sitting here trying to choke down more coffee so I can function on my 5.5 hours of sleep, thinking about all the ways things just get out of control. I may need to clean up my blog roll--which brings up this blogging etiquette: just because someone doesn't have my blog on their roll, it doesn't bother me. I don't blame them for not putting this mess on their clean blogs. I am not being facetious, either--really. This place is a damn mess. Wish I had tidied up a bit first. If you smell Lemon Pledge and bleach, it was my attempt to mask the clutter and junk.
My washing machine broke recently, and the dust bunnies turned hostile and created new horrors: undead armies of plastic laundry soap caps, a hammer, old warranties, and 77 cents in a mix of pennies, half-dollars, and other change crawled out from underneath the alter of suds and agitated filth. It's fixed, but the laundry has not gone out and washed itself. Maybe it was scared of the loose change and gunk.
I knocked down a mirror/coat rack the other day.
I had an exhausted meltdown earlier this week.
Zep went into a Zul with one of her most dependable running buddies, and fell off of not one but three cliffs, eaten by biting fish, and two bridges, and was pushed by trolls and slapped around by bridge ogres or whatever the hell those things are. Effing Zuls.
But she got enough Valor Points to get a higher level robe. Should she buy the helm? Nah. Robe is better.
Realized last night, long after the "receipt" expired I already had the damn thing.
This was the penultimate event of yesterday. The morning started with me calling an early morning meeting to deliver bad news, and a little trustworthy bird told me that indeed, there was a real life troll digging for dirt on me. It confirmed my suspicions, and another little bird said, "Hey this is like Game of Thrones!" and while I struggled with who was Cersei Lannister or Catelyn Stark in the scenario, the bottom line is I don't play real-life 'games' well at all. Like, AT ALL. I am too much in my own head, my own life, love, and duties to put much thought into others machinations and Machiavellian* maneuverings. I am always dismayed when others show their true puce-colors.
"Penultimate" means next to the last. So there was one final thing: Senor, thanks for making me smile, not ever, ever allowing myself to take myself too seriously, and reminding me of cool things once again.
So--here is from Cymre and Vidyala: Anyone else out there who makes your day? Of course my close (blogging) friends-but every one who chose to put me on follow - they rock, I read them, and they make my day.
And I have many stories/posts half-started, too. I know why I hesitate to write some--because there are trolls out there who would try to make fiction into fact, and I can't have that.
Do any of my fellow writers struggle with that? Having to censor one's fiction because of outside forces or judgments?
In any case - onward. Got get a hold of that banker.
*Cool! I spelled it right the first time! Maybe my brain is coming back!