Judging by what I’m seeing on others’ blogs, this “not good” stuff is going around. And while misery does love company, I don’t like misery of any kind. Like I said yesterday, I try my best not to bitch, but I think maybe it’s time to share a little of what’s been going on so y’all know why I’m maybe not my usual perky self.
I’m still not really sleeping all that great. Not getting enough sleep is probably the fastest way for me to get in trouble. Not enough for long enough will drive me into mania. And the higher up I go the farther down I fall. It’s a gradual process, contrary to what that rotten ass “Black Box” show would have you believe, so there’s hope there – acknowledging that that’s where I’m headed means I can do something about it. And I’m trying, but it’s kind of hard and it mostly sucks. I haven’t reached a dangerous place yet, but there’s emphasis on that YET.
Josh made some particularly poor financial decisions prior to meeting me, like not filing income tax. The government has found him and would like their money. Now. This all started last year and I was able to setup a monthly repayment plan with one of the states involved and that’s been fine. Not exactly exciting coming up with an extra $300+ every month, but whatevs. When the IRS came calling he decided to try appealing. A year later and there’s been no real progress made other than them denying the appeal and saying he still needs to file and then pay. I’m no help with this at all because the reason he didn’t file was that he was self-employed and didn’t know how. Never been there so hey, useless. They’re wanting something in the neighborhood of $10k. And there’s still one more state that should be wanting to get involved at some point.
My GI system apparently hates me because damn near anything I put in my mouth comes shooting out almost immediately. Normally my body has the decency to limit this behavior to mornings, but last night I got hit right after dinner. That meant I didn’t go to sleep until later. (see above section about not getting enough sleep) But I’m not losing any weight because why should I possibly get something decent out of this misery.
Work is kind of terrible right now. 99% of the time I absolutely love my job. I’m good at what I do and I love doing it, most of our faculty are great people, and I have a few people I work with directly that I really like. But summer is always super busy for us. Plus my boss is crabby as fuck about a project that’s not going her way (that I’m not in on, thank gawd), there’s a new implementation to prep for (that I think the timing on is utter shit), and two of my teammates do less work combined than your average dead earthworm. My talents keep getting recognized, which is awesome, but all that really means is more work for less money than the dead worms, plus more meetings which means less time in my office to actually do all of the work I’ve been tasked with.
So I guess all of that to say that I’m wound a little extra tight right now.
How will I manage? By being weird, of course! The idea for this little gem comes from Rose. She asked me the other day if I put together the photo/quote things I like to share, which I don’t, but that got me thinking – why not? I haven’t quite come up with a good idea for this bit yet, but I’m leaning towards pretty/shitty. The photo was done by someone else (found with the “licensed for non-comm ok to reuse and modify” bit) but the sentiment is all Mama. Let me know what you think.
First up is your pretty/shitty pic for the week. This is a recurring theme for me. Lots of folks who have no business being parents to anything more than sea monkeys breed like gawddamn rabbits while other people who would make excellent parents are never given the chance. WHAT THE FUCK, UNIVERSE???
That was done the same as my other pictures have been – crappy markers on sketch paper. Now, this is my entry for this week’s challenge – a cat in a hat.
I’ve got to say, I am having a TON of fun with these pictures. I don’t think I’m necessarily very good at drawing, but it’s putting me back in touch with my inner kid.
Mental in the Midwest 
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