An Cuthach Naomh
[What I Feel| 
sick ]
[What I Hear| 30STM "Attack" ]
[What I Smell| BPAL The Living Flame ]
[side comment: my Faclair Gàidhlig-Beurla has "fuck" in it: "rach air muin". Would people really take the TIME to say "rach air muin" instead of just "fuck"?]
Not only are thick, green lumps of phelgm/mucus still ruling my ability to breathe, but now they're trying to set up housekeeping, despite all the Mucinex and pseudoephedrine and saline washes. The kamikazi cold became bronchitis. I hate being ill at Christmas.
But unlike most colds, where when I'm at my runniest and weakest my body is sending demands of "I'm horney" to my brain (why, I don't know, but it usually does), this illness has been interesting in that it only seems to intensify my ANGER.
I am really pissed off.
I keep remembering the effortlessness only a brief four years ago when I was out on a walk--and before I even THOUGHT about what I was doing, I suddenly sprang up and into a tree, finding a perfect perch on one of the limbs. I'm not a kid, I'm fifty years old...although most of you would mistake me for being about thirty-something if you saw me. I don't act or look my age. And I BELONGED in that tree, dammit.
Or how I could spill out pages and pages of writing and still do other creative things, such as painting or calligraphy or book making.
Right now, nada. And I have one Clueless person to thank for much of this crap.
This is no way to live and I don't want to go on much longer having to deal with (and make excuses for professionally) what I've been enduring over the past two years. Particularly this past year of 2006, which has not only sucked, but has plumbed new depths of suckage. Unlike the Clueless person referred to, I have greater intelligence and more talent than the morass of mundane crappery I've been having to work with. I'm sick of 'spending' my mind and body toward what could only be called a professional money pit.
I've been unfairly treated this past year. Everything from being thrown out as a mod simply because a lying Drama Queen wasn't getting her way to being this sick after going the extra hundred miles to try to PREVENT catching anything from anyone. I'm not going to be putting up with this sort of thing much longer.
If you do wrong and you know it, you do your best to fix it. Despite the bad manners and double-sekrit dealings backstage, I will not be lowering myself to the dubious levels of faceless manipulators who do this kind of thing. It lacks CLASS and I'm not afraid to apologise if I'm wrong.
This is Christmas and it is all about the Light. I am walking out of the darkness others have placed upon me and I'm going forward.
Hope you're there with me, but if you're not, then I'm guessing you were part of the problem rather than the answer.
Nechtan
sick ]
[What I Hear| 30STM "Attack" ]
[What I Smell| BPAL The Living Flame ]
[side comment: my Faclair Gàidhlig-Beurla has "fuck" in it: "rach air muin". Would people really take the TIME to say "rach air muin" instead of just "fuck"?]
Not only are thick, green lumps of phelgm/mucus still ruling my ability to breathe, but now they're trying to set up housekeeping, despite all the Mucinex and pseudoephedrine and saline washes. The kamikazi cold became bronchitis. I hate being ill at Christmas.
But unlike most colds, where when I'm at my runniest and weakest my body is sending demands of "I'm horney" to my brain (why, I don't know, but it usually does), this illness has been interesting in that it only seems to intensify my ANGER.
I am really pissed off.
I keep remembering the effortlessness only a brief four years ago when I was out on a walk--and before I even THOUGHT about what I was doing, I suddenly sprang up and into a tree, finding a perfect perch on one of the limbs. I'm not a kid, I'm fifty years old...although most of you would mistake me for being about thirty-something if you saw me. I don't act or look my age. And I BELONGED in that tree, dammit.
Or how I could spill out pages and pages of writing and still do other creative things, such as painting or calligraphy or book making.
Right now, nada. And I have one Clueless person to thank for much of this crap.
This is no way to live and I don't want to go on much longer having to deal with (and make excuses for professionally) what I've been enduring over the past two years. Particularly this past year of 2006, which has not only sucked, but has plumbed new depths of suckage. Unlike the Clueless person referred to, I have greater intelligence and more talent than the morass of mundane crappery I've been having to work with. I'm sick of 'spending' my mind and body toward what could only be called a professional money pit.
I've been unfairly treated this past year. Everything from being thrown out as a mod simply because a lying Drama Queen wasn't getting her way to being this sick after going the extra hundred miles to try to PREVENT catching anything from anyone. I'm not going to be putting up with this sort of thing much longer.
If you do wrong and you know it, you do your best to fix it. Despite the bad manners and double-sekrit dealings backstage, I will not be lowering myself to the dubious levels of faceless manipulators who do this kind of thing. It lacks CLASS and I'm not afraid to apologise if I'm wrong.
This is Christmas and it is all about the Light. I am walking out of the darkness others have placed upon me and I'm going forward.
Hope you're there with me, but if you're not, then I'm guessing you were part of the problem rather than the answer.
Nechtan