Concentrate on the pretty lights
1. I feel like ass.
2. I thought I would wake up and feel less like ass, but that didn't happen.
3. I thought I might feel less like ass when I'd eaten but that didn't happen and also I have no appetite.
4. I am trying to bribe myself with expanded food consumption including strawberry milkshake (a good strawberry milkshake is pretty much the Nuclear Option) but this is somewhat stymied by the aforementioned lack of appetite/interest in food.
5. I therefore failed to a) put binders in packets to mail them out, b) finish editing the outline for Tourist's Guide, c) finish writing Dali's essay, d) even look at Liza's fic, e) feel anything about this, because I am too tired and dead-feeling.
6. I did manage to add more mark-up to another chapter for Heavy, at least. Chapter Nine is going to get a thorough gutting when my brain works - it's too waffly.
7. Attempts to perk myself up a bit: sambal belachan on my tofu noodles (let's face it, I was going to do that anyway, but at least I thought this would get my sinuses clear); switching reading material from The London Monster (which is DRAGGING) to Brewers's Dictionary Of London Phrase and Fable, which superstition says will make me a WHIZZO WRITER like a PROPER GROWN-UP; chicken katsu curry from Wasabi for later (I considered getting other stuff but was pole-axed by guilt about money and calories), a flat white from Pret accompanied by inexplicable flirting from the barista (guy I look like a WW2 soldier with TB trying to hitch-hike home to die, this is not an attractive look), a strawberry milkshake from Shakeshake accompanied by this view:
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ8-zhjR9C/
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ9R8fDMOd/ (video link)
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ9qZUjsns/
and a mocha from the work coffee machine...
Broadly unsuccessful because my SOUL IS DEAD AND I AM DEAD
Jess at least enjoyed her birthday presents from me (two bear-related t-shirts in navy blue and black) and the company who sent her one of her birthday presents from Ret also sent some "fuck off alt-right scum" stickers. Lindsay hasn't actually managed to WRAP her presents yet because: we are dead and our souls are dead.
Summary: I feel like a sack of ass and have wanted to do nothing but pass out since I woke up BUT I AM AT WORK NOW. Also I currently look like a fucking German hiker.
2. I thought I would wake up and feel less like ass, but that didn't happen.
3. I thought I might feel less like ass when I'd eaten but that didn't happen and also I have no appetite.
4. I am trying to bribe myself with expanded food consumption including strawberry milkshake (a good strawberry milkshake is pretty much the Nuclear Option) but this is somewhat stymied by the aforementioned lack of appetite/interest in food.
5. I therefore failed to a) put binders in packets to mail them out, b) finish editing the outline for Tourist's Guide, c) finish writing Dali's essay, d) even look at Liza's fic, e) feel anything about this, because I am too tired and dead-feeling.
6. I did manage to add more mark-up to another chapter for Heavy, at least. Chapter Nine is going to get a thorough gutting when my brain works - it's too waffly.
7. Attempts to perk myself up a bit: sambal belachan on my tofu noodles (let's face it, I was going to do that anyway, but at least I thought this would get my sinuses clear); switching reading material from The London Monster (which is DRAGGING) to Brewers's Dictionary Of London Phrase and Fable, which superstition says will make me a WHIZZO WRITER like a PROPER GROWN-UP; chicken katsu curry from Wasabi for later (I considered getting other stuff but was pole-axed by guilt about money and calories), a flat white from Pret accompanied by inexplicable flirting from the barista (guy I look like a WW2 soldier with TB trying to hitch-hike home to die, this is not an attractive look), a strawberry milkshake from Shakeshake accompanied by this view:
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ8-zhjR9C/
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ9R8fDMOd/ (video link)
https://www.instagram.com/p/BQQ9qZUjsns/
and a mocha from the work coffee machine...
Broadly unsuccessful because my SOUL IS DEAD AND I AM DEAD
Jess at least enjoyed her birthday presents from me (two bear-related t-shirts in navy blue and black) and the company who sent her one of her birthday presents from Ret also sent some "fuck off alt-right scum" stickers. Lindsay hasn't actually managed to WRAP her presents yet because: we are dead and our souls are dead.
Summary: I feel like a sack of ass and have wanted to do nothing but pass out since I woke up BUT I AM AT WORK NOW. Also I currently look like a fucking German hiker.