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the_siobhanNoodlings about not much.
I looked in the mirror this morning and my freckles are appearing at a prodigious rate.
This must not be allowed to continue.
The hunt for sunscreen that does not make me break out like a 14 year-old commences immediately.
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My 1% name is Bitch of the Spider Skulls Motorcycle Club.
Outlaw Biker Name Generator
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I'm getting to that cranky stage that always creeps up on me when I start to feel over-stretched. I'm working a lot of hours these days and doing the running around for 10 different other things, and as a result even the time spent with people who's company I really enjoy can get to be wearing unless I occasionally take time out to be alone as well -- I am still very much an introvert, and I need that downtime to recharge my batteries.
It doesn't help that I am PMSing like a mad bastard and that has me worrying that I'm going to be felled by the Killer Attack Womb any day now. Nothing like impending session with your own personal torturer to put you in a mood.
Fortunately I really only need a day to myself and I'm back to being hyper and insane again.
My appointment with the specialist is only two weeks away. I will be keeping it, if I have to be carried in on a stretcher.
And I'm not even going to miss being able to get access to heavy narcotics any time I feel like it.
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The city has declared some of the piles of trash lying around in public parks to be a vermin hazard, if not yet an actual public health hazard, so they are cleaing up the worst sites. Including the big park that I walk through to get to the pub on weekends.
The anarchy-loving part of me wants to believe that this is a massive underswell of silent public protest -- that people know that by putting their garbage on city property they are expressing their desire to the mayor and the other fuckheads in office that they want this strike settled now.
In real life I figure it's just that people are inconsiderate assholes.
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I have been writing a bomb lately. Scribbling at my lunch hour, on the subway, showing up early to appointments so I can sit and write first... I have no idea where this sudden splort of creative energy is coming from, but I'm riding it while it lasts. Fuck yeah.
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Apparently sperm is a natural anti-depressant.
http://www.newscientist.com/news/news.jsp?id=ns99992457
Well.
That explains everything.
I looked in the mirror this morning and my freckles are appearing at a prodigious rate.
This must not be allowed to continue.
The hunt for sunscreen that does not make me break out like a 14 year-old commences immediately.
------------------------
My 1% name is Bitch of the Spider Skulls Motorcycle Club.
Outlaw Biker Name Generator
------------------------
I'm getting to that cranky stage that always creeps up on me when I start to feel over-stretched. I'm working a lot of hours these days and doing the running around for 10 different other things, and as a result even the time spent with people who's company I really enjoy can get to be wearing unless I occasionally take time out to be alone as well -- I am still very much an introvert, and I need that downtime to recharge my batteries.
It doesn't help that I am PMSing like a mad bastard and that has me worrying that I'm going to be felled by the Killer Attack Womb any day now. Nothing like impending session with your own personal torturer to put you in a mood.
Fortunately I really only need a day to myself and I'm back to being hyper and insane again.
My appointment with the specialist is only two weeks away. I will be keeping it, if I have to be carried in on a stretcher.
And I'm not even going to miss being able to get access to heavy narcotics any time I feel like it.
------------------------
The city has declared some of the piles of trash lying around in public parks to be a vermin hazard, if not yet an actual public health hazard, so they are cleaing up the worst sites. Including the big park that I walk through to get to the pub on weekends.
The anarchy-loving part of me wants to believe that this is a massive underswell of silent public protest -- that people know that by putting their garbage on city property they are expressing their desire to the mayor and the other fuckheads in office that they want this strike settled now.
In real life I figure it's just that people are inconsiderate assholes.
------------------------
I have been writing a bomb lately. Scribbling at my lunch hour, on the subway, showing up early to appointments so I can sit and write first... I have no idea where this sudden splort of creative energy is coming from, but I'm riding it while it lasts. Fuck yeah.
------------------------
Apparently sperm is a natural anti-depressant.
http://www.newscientist.com/news/news.jsp?id=ns99992457
Well.
That explains everything.