Insomnia
Ya know I'm a bit of a Megadeth fan... and I also love the movie Fightclub. What do the two have in common, besides a disapproving look from my mother? Well both have a little to do with Insomnia (a song and a plot device, respectively).
Those two things sorta sum up how I've been this last week. My eyes are scratchy and red and swollen, I can't seem to sleep or stay awake, I have a hard time recalling things that happened because... well I'm not sure if they did happen. I get maybe 4 hours of actual sleep, the rest of the time I just toss and turn and grit my teeth. Something about loss of consciousness vexes me these days. It seems the more I relax, the stranger I feel. I remember some bad times of last year more vividly then I think, fuck every one of those 365 days seems to haunt me.
Today is my 23rd birthday and I've asked for nothing. But of course there is no way I will get nothing from my parents, so they're giving me cash in whatever amount they care to spend. Probably $50 or so. It'll go well with my bonus from work and the savings I've had accumulating for years I never knew about. I'll probably ship it up to Thomas to pay him the rest of what I owe him for the bow and a new set of arrows. Heh which is another depressing thing, turns out combat archery is a bad joke in the SCA. Those fiberglass, ultra-safe baby toys they call War Arrows apparently fly like coked-up geese. I have definite stats on the golf tube arrows now, and from what I hear from other sources on the fiberglass arrows with blunts and anti-bounce devices, they aren't much better. And at possibly $10+ an arrow, I'm realizing I shoulda bought a crossbow. I gotta find a way to make it work though. Hmm ponder ponder ponder...
Everything around me is in flux right now. A lot, and I mean a lot, of people are leaving London Drugs for other things (cops, education, to get away from the scandal...) and some of the people who might be replacing them are... less than enthusiastic employees. One moves so slowly I almost want to hitch a plow to him and till the fields and the other has nothing nice to say about anyone in the store. Not like me at all mind you, I'm Mister Optimistic. But they're just kids and will probably grow out of it. I just hope they do it before I loose my mind.
Ok what else what else... OH! I finally got my pickle barrel! That's right ladies, gentlemen and Seth you will soon no longer be able to hassle me about my lack of protective body armor. I hope within the month to be having my clock cleaned, my bell peeled and my butt handed to me by the best Seagirt has to offer! I had a cunning plan for a suit of lamellar armor styled after the rounded rectangles you see in a lot of Arabic portrayals... but it's a big blue barrel! I'll just stick some cloth to it, rivet it together and call it Even Steven. As for a shield, I'm thinking something small and round so it won't get in the way of my archery. I've got a plan, you see as to how to wear what into battle. Of course we all know what happens to plans in a battle...
Those two things sorta sum up how I've been this last week. My eyes are scratchy and red and swollen, I can't seem to sleep or stay awake, I have a hard time recalling things that happened because... well I'm not sure if they did happen. I get maybe 4 hours of actual sleep, the rest of the time I just toss and turn and grit my teeth. Something about loss of consciousness vexes me these days. It seems the more I relax, the stranger I feel. I remember some bad times of last year more vividly then I think, fuck every one of those 365 days seems to haunt me.
Today is my 23rd birthday and I've asked for nothing. But of course there is no way I will get nothing from my parents, so they're giving me cash in whatever amount they care to spend. Probably $50 or so. It'll go well with my bonus from work and the savings I've had accumulating for years I never knew about. I'll probably ship it up to Thomas to pay him the rest of what I owe him for the bow and a new set of arrows. Heh which is another depressing thing, turns out combat archery is a bad joke in the SCA. Those fiberglass, ultra-safe baby toys they call War Arrows apparently fly like coked-up geese. I have definite stats on the golf tube arrows now, and from what I hear from other sources on the fiberglass arrows with blunts and anti-bounce devices, they aren't much better. And at possibly $10+ an arrow, I'm realizing I shoulda bought a crossbow. I gotta find a way to make it work though. Hmm ponder ponder ponder...
Everything around me is in flux right now. A lot, and I mean a lot, of people are leaving London Drugs for other things (cops, education, to get away from the scandal...) and some of the people who might be replacing them are... less than enthusiastic employees. One moves so slowly I almost want to hitch a plow to him and till the fields and the other has nothing nice to say about anyone in the store. Not like me at all mind you, I'm Mister Optimistic. But they're just kids and will probably grow out of it. I just hope they do it before I loose my mind.
Ok what else what else... OH! I finally got my pickle barrel! That's right ladies, gentlemen and Seth you will soon no longer be able to hassle me about my lack of protective body armor. I hope within the month to be having my clock cleaned, my bell peeled and my butt handed to me by the best Seagirt has to offer! I had a cunning plan for a suit of lamellar armor styled after the rounded rectangles you see in a lot of Arabic portrayals... but it's a big blue barrel! I'll just stick some cloth to it, rivet it together and call it Even Steven. As for a shield, I'm thinking something small and round so it won't get in the way of my archery. I've got a plan, you see as to how to wear what into battle. Of course we all know what happens to plans in a battle...