Yeesh.
Work. Party. Work. Spreadsheets = Brain Rape. Comics are everywhere, people are buying them slowly but steadily.
Didn't get the loan, which honestly isn't that big of a deal; after reconfiguring some finance stuff, it's come to my attention that we need to do some serious fat-trimming and recalculating, and Tom has seriously gone to bat for me. Here I was, thinking that somehow we'd end up competing against each other and somehow damaging our friendship. Instead, I've once again realized two reoccuring themes in my psychological and emotional growth:
1. People aren't always trying to fuck me; and
2. Life works itself out if I push forward and tear away from the bullshit and detritus like a bull in a china shop.
I've been streamlining my life pretty hardcore lately. I think the spreadsheet is my new spiritual icon of focus. Everything is becoming organized, falling into little squares; and the extra data is simply shat off and deleted. Thus, I'm slooowly feeling more in control of my surroundings, and that things can and will work out in a bit more efficient and pleasantly predictable manner.
Oy... chaos. Chaos and nausea. I really need to exercise more, but then again I'd need more time for that. Probably gonna have to go dig up a job delivering pizzas 'round these parts, something in that vein where I can afford to pay off a house and support some more business-y things.
I took my first order on friday. We're hoping for the BIG ORDERAMA thang to take place in March. Tom's done a lot for hookin' a brothah sistah up with inventory. Ugh, if only I was a bit more feminine, if I had the time to not look like thirty-year-old-guy-that-obviously-does-business-things-blah-ick-vomit. My five year high school reunion is coming up, and I really do honest-to-god want to look great and feel great. *sigh* Okay, that does it, I'm going to go stretch and exercise riiiiiight...
...now.
Didn't get the loan, which honestly isn't that big of a deal; after reconfiguring some finance stuff, it's come to my attention that we need to do some serious fat-trimming and recalculating, and Tom has seriously gone to bat for me. Here I was, thinking that somehow we'd end up competing against each other and somehow damaging our friendship. Instead, I've once again realized two reoccuring themes in my psychological and emotional growth:
1. People aren't always trying to fuck me; and
2. Life works itself out if I push forward and tear away from the bullshit and detritus like a bull in a china shop.
I've been streamlining my life pretty hardcore lately. I think the spreadsheet is my new spiritual icon of focus. Everything is becoming organized, falling into little squares; and the extra data is simply shat off and deleted. Thus, I'm slooowly feeling more in control of my surroundings, and that things can and will work out in a bit more efficient and pleasantly predictable manner.
Oy... chaos. Chaos and nausea. I really need to exercise more, but then again I'd need more time for that. Probably gonna have to go dig up a job delivering pizzas 'round these parts, something in that vein where I can afford to pay off a house and support some more business-y things.
I took my first order on friday. We're hoping for the BIG ORDERAMA thang to take place in March. Tom's done a lot for hookin' a brothah sistah up with inventory. Ugh, if only I was a bit more feminine, if I had the time to not look like thirty-year-old-guy-that-obviously-does-business-things-blah-ick-vomit. My five year high school reunion is coming up, and I really do honest-to-god want to look great and feel great. *sigh* Okay, that does it, I'm going to go stretch and exercise riiiiiight...
...now.