today was sure to suck from when i left brittany to go sleep yesterday, at four something am. i couldn't fall asleep, and that was something that hasn't happened to me for months
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Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry. About everything. And I know I asked you about how the internship was going and then I understood why you didn't want to talk about it, but now I believe I understand even better. It sounds like a bit of a mess ("consecrated", really?). For one, I'm incredibly wary around all men and if one of them was already freaking me out more than usual, I don't even know what I'd do. Probably just go with my gut instinct, although I realise that's not something you can do, if you want to get the job...
Also, that film. What the fuck. I actually really liked the trailer and was looking forward to seeing it (for obvious reasons), but now I think I'll pass. I don't mind it hitting way too close to home, but I draw line at it being passed off as "comedy", something to fucking laugh at and at the characters being cured by love. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. That's not how it works. When I first heard of the film, I was hoping it'd be about how two mentally ill people fall in love and stay mentally ill together. But apparently not. Because we always need a happy fucking ending with a neat little bow tied on the whole story, right? Also, "Therapy by Love"? "THERAPY BY LOVE"? Are you fucking shitting me, Slovak translators? (If I ever become a translator, I will never pull shit like this. I swear.)
And... yeah. I don't know what else to say. I'm so damn sorry about Rory. May he rest in peace. :c (But "pushover" and "doormat"? Are two words I'd never associate with you. Perhaps you seem different IRL? Or perhaps you just see yourself differently...)
But, to be positive, I hope your issues with low blood pressure will get sorted out. I have them, too, but never actually passed out because of them, so I don't know how awful it must be. You have my sympathies, bb. And I also hope that whichever ratty you'll pick will be a little sweetheart. I really do. ❤
(And don't blame yourself. Or do, I'm not your mum, but please don't let it eat at you. It wasn't your fault. At least from my viewpoint, it wasn't. You are not Nostradamus -- you couldn't have predicted that Rory would die overnight.)
P. S. I absolutely despise it when people from the audience are being picked out. I always try to slide down on my seat and act uninterested in the proceedings, but I'd lie if I said that I wasn't on the brink of a panic attack once when in a theatre, the actors decided to bring some people on stage. I almost stood up and ran away, except I realised it'd just make me a more likely target. But yeah, the point is, I can entirely empathise with Eda there.
Yeah... or I can not take the job, but then... I really don't know what to do. Except for give a call to a psychologist. Except mine left for maternity leave a few weeks ago and I've been reluctant to call the new one, because... because... well. Talking to strangers on phone? No thanks. So I'm basically without a therapist now and even if I wasn't sure how she was helping, she was.
That movie. I know, right? When I first saw it through Tumblr radar I was like, I'm definitely going to see this. And Stephen Fry wrote it was good. I trusted you!!! And then came Julia's angry tweets and I knew I was wrong but... Just wow. After I went sleep yesternight though, I tried to think of it as the characters being... not supposed to be cured of their illnesses, only "moving on" from their old loves. Then again... still why the hell treat it like the illness just went away? Not even talking about the Slovak title. I should actually get you a scan of that ticket. Like seriously. You won't believe.
And then I thought the Rory nightmare could finally be over, but didn't realise that getting someone to dissect him in Bratislava would be such a fucking problem. I called like four ambulances this morning (five hours of sleep again, what the fuck is wrong with me) and apparently it's a problem because I can't be around for the dissections. Nor take the body back afterwards. Which is funny because when Eda had Arthur dissected, they gave him back to her afterwards and told her she has to get rid of the body herself. Which was of course ridiculous because vet takes care of the cadaver after dissection. Wtf. And yeah, pushover. I don't sound like it because I always complain and curse to people I like about things I don't like, being all tough. But in the past years, I've been less and less of that loud, purposeful, assertive kid I used to be - the uni taught me to shut up and just go with things. I don't like it at all. Sometimes I still snap. But more often I just can't say no, to pretty much anyone.
I fainted from those reasons maybe twice in my life only, but there were plenty of times when I reached various stages of falling unconscious, from just feeling light headed to where I had to leave surgeries (or holy masses) but only guessed my way out of the room because my sight went black and I stopped hearing and had to sit down and breathe and drink some water so yeah. And the baby rattie will be a sweetheart, I know it too. I guess it's settled it'll have to be a cinnamon one, though, even if I had been previously considering getting a platinum one...
(Actually, with the past few ratties, I learnt it's not that hard to tell when it's come the day the rat is going to die on. It's creepy but it's pretty much true, or at least I believe it. (Except Berry, he just wouldn't die!!!) But I should have taken his state a lot more seriously a lot sooner. Because he was an acute case. Yesterday after I got home I couldn't actually believe I didn't take him to vet's early because he was obviously very sick. Augh. Yeah I'm not going to beat myself up over it, I'm not, I'm not... I know I can't change it anymore. Except of not letting it happen again. But that is the thing - this very thing happened with Yperit already. She has been sick for so long and I was going to definitely take her to vet's on Monday but then she passed away on Sunday. Back then I already told myself I wouldn't let it happen again. So...)
I know, I was only mean to her even when I knew she was panicking because I was on bring of panic, too. But there was no way to avoid it because they named the seat numbers and everyone around so fucking excitedly whispered that's you!! Thanks but no thanks. Augh. Still, the book, so much better than winning cosmetics or shirt. Guess you gotta see the silver lining.
/clings You're pretty much the only person I (realistically and not) hoped to write me back when I wrote this, so thank you lots.
Also, that film. What the fuck. I actually really liked the trailer and was looking forward to seeing it (for obvious reasons), but now I think I'll pass. I don't mind it hitting way too close to home, but I draw line at it being passed off as "comedy", something to fucking laugh at and at the characters being cured by love. Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. That's not how it works. When I first heard of the film, I was hoping it'd be about how two mentally ill people fall in love and stay mentally ill together. But apparently not. Because we always need a happy fucking ending with a neat little bow tied on the whole story, right? Also, "Therapy by Love"? "THERAPY BY LOVE"? Are you fucking shitting me, Slovak translators? (If I ever become a translator, I will never pull shit like this. I swear.)
And... yeah. I don't know what else to say. I'm so damn sorry about Rory. May he rest in peace. :c (But "pushover" and "doormat"? Are two words I'd never associate with you. Perhaps you seem different IRL? Or perhaps you just see yourself differently...)
But, to be positive, I hope your issues with low blood pressure will get sorted out. I have them, too, but never actually passed out because of them, so I don't know how awful it must be. You have my sympathies, bb. And I also hope that whichever ratty you'll pick will be a little sweetheart. I really do. ❤
(And don't blame yourself. Or do, I'm not your mum, but please don't let it eat at you. It wasn't your fault. At least from my viewpoint, it wasn't. You are not Nostradamus -- you couldn't have predicted that Rory would die overnight.)
P. S. I absolutely despise it when people from the audience are being picked out. I always try to slide down on my seat and act uninterested in the proceedings, but I'd lie if I said that I wasn't on the brink of a panic attack once when in a theatre, the actors decided to bring some people on stage. I almost stood up and ran away, except I realised it'd just make me a more likely target. But yeah, the point is, I can entirely empathise with Eda there.
Just... much love. ❤❤❤
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Except for give a call to a psychologist. Except mine left for maternity leave a few weeks ago and I've been reluctant to call the new one, because... because... well. Talking to strangers on phone? No thanks. So I'm basically without a therapist now and even if I wasn't sure how she was helping, she was.
That movie. I know, right? When I first saw it through Tumblr radar I was like, I'm definitely going to see this. And Stephen Fry wrote it was good. I trusted you!!! And then came Julia's angry tweets and I knew I was wrong but... Just wow. After I went sleep yesternight though, I tried to think of it as the characters being... not supposed to be cured of their illnesses, only "moving on" from their old loves. Then again... still why the hell treat it like the illness just went away?
Not even talking about the Slovak title. I should actually get you a scan of that ticket. Like seriously. You won't believe.
And then I thought the Rory nightmare could finally be over, but didn't realise that getting someone to dissect him in Bratislava would be such a fucking problem. I called like four ambulances this morning (five hours of sleep again, what the fuck is wrong with me) and apparently it's a problem because I can't be around for the dissections. Nor take the body back afterwards. Which is funny because when Eda had Arthur dissected, they gave him back to her afterwards and told her she has to get rid of the body herself. Which was of course ridiculous because vet takes care of the cadaver after dissection. Wtf.
And yeah, pushover. I don't sound like it because I always complain and curse to people I like about things I don't like, being all tough. But in the past years, I've been less and less of that loud, purposeful, assertive kid I used to be - the uni taught me to shut up and just go with things. I don't like it at all. Sometimes I still snap. But more often I just can't say no, to pretty much anyone.
I fainted from those reasons maybe twice in my life only, but there were plenty of times when I reached various stages of falling unconscious, from just feeling light headed to where I had to leave surgeries (or holy masses) but only guessed my way out of the room because my sight went black and I stopped hearing and had to sit down and breathe and drink some water so yeah.
And the baby rattie will be a sweetheart, I know it too. I guess it's settled it'll have to be a cinnamon one, though, even if I had been previously considering getting a platinum one...
(Actually, with the past few ratties, I learnt it's not that hard to tell when it's come the day the rat is going to die on. It's creepy but it's pretty much true, or at least I believe it. (Except Berry, he just wouldn't die!!!) But I should have taken his state a lot more seriously a lot sooner. Because he was an acute case. Yesterday after I got home I couldn't actually believe I didn't take him to vet's early because he was obviously very sick. Augh.
Yeah I'm not going to beat myself up over it, I'm not, I'm not... I know I can't change it anymore. Except of not letting it happen again. But that is the thing - this very thing happened with Yperit already. She has been sick for so long and I was going to definitely take her to vet's on Monday but then she passed away on Sunday. Back then I already told myself I wouldn't let it happen again. So...)
I know, I was only mean to her even when I knew she was panicking because I was on bring of panic, too. But there was no way to avoid it because they named the seat numbers and everyone around so fucking excitedly whispered that's you!! Thanks but no thanks. Augh. Still, the book, so much better than winning cosmetics or shirt. Guess you gotta see the silver lining.
/clings
You're pretty much the only person I (realistically and not) hoped to write me back when I wrote this, so thank you lots.
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