(12:35pm)Happy Anniversary!!! As of today, Dirk and I have been dating for 13 months! I'm so proud of us!
I am always appreciative of the assholes at work dumping jobs onto my desk. Especially if they do it when I'm off.
Wow, they weren't kidding about how tough it was to manage a webring. Some people are just not responsive, you know? Katie got back to me, and she should have the ring navigator back up within a week. No-one else got back to me. I guess they died. Anyway, they're getting cut out of the queue, too. I don't have time for a lot of dead weight.
Some genius at work has decided that Alex, of all people, should train a new employee. Why not get someone better qualified? Like Morris the Cat? Alex shouldn't be allowed to talk to the other people in the office, much less train them. He is lying to the poor girl. I know he is. Just like he lied to me. She'll be confused and she'll want to cry, because he's passing on really confusing rituals (of the obsessive-compulsive type) that he has to perform in the place of the simplest tasks.
Does anyone remember the "Dear Mr. Jesus" song? It was on the radio a lot when I was 9 or ten. It had a little girl singing to Jesus about a girl who was abused by her parents, and was hovering between life and death. I think about that song sometimes, but I can never remember the lyrics completely.
I realized recently how little I understand about a lot of things. Take depression, for instance. I'm not talking about just feeling down for a day or so, or having a traumatic event happen that makes you depressed for a while. I mean clinical depression. The kind you take medication for. How must that feel? Does it feel as though something huge is pressing down on you constantly, cutting off your will, cutting off your life? I wouldn't understand, wouldn't have the patience for that feeling. I'm usually only depressed for 5 minutes at a time.
You know, they call being a sociopath an anti-social personality disorder. Wow, that sounds awful nice for what it is. I think I'd prefer being a sociopath....Ted Bundy was a sociopath. Anti-social personality disorder sounds too friendly, too kind. It doesn't describe the fact that people with this problem honestly don't view other people as humans, or equals. Other people just aren't real to them, and niether are their problems, emotions or pain. That makes it too easy to hurt them. I think the psychology community should have stayed with sociopath.
I'm trying to decide whether or not I should quit smoking for the next few weeks, until the Torture Outdoors class is over. On one hand, it'll mean I have that much less tar in my lungs when I go up those mountains. On the other hand, it won't be that much less tar. I saw something in the store that helps you quit smoking. It punches holes in the filter of your cigarette, so you get less stuff out of it. I don't really want to quit smoking. I told Dirk I'd quit when we got married. We're not married yet, so I'm puffing away.
Another little spot of sunshine from my Hike From Hell: I am now the proud owner of a suspicious rash over my left eye. It's red, bumpy, and hurts while it itches. It would be just my luck if it was something special, like poison ivy. The eye itself doesn't seem to be affected (no redness, etc.), and it's not hurting my vision, so we'll let it be for the moment. Makeup can do great things.
I don't feel motivated to do anything work-related today. I'm tired and suffering from residual aches from the Hike. I kind of wish I had simply stayed home and slept. I almost talked myself out of working this morning, in fact.
I am, however, feeling inspired about my novel. I may work on that, instead of typing up a bunch of boring Top-Secret garbage.
I updated my cast page. It now includes my mother, as well as specifying Roachboy's employment history. Why would I do something so reprehensible? Because it's really sad, and I like to rub Roachboy's face in the fact that Dirk's making more money now than Roachboy probably will in his life. Unless Roachboy gets famous, of course.
Call me cruel.
My blood sugar just did something nasty. More later, when I'm coherent.
(12:26a.m.)Well, the rest of the day was just special. Dirk came over, and proceeded to spend over an hour online, not really paying attention to me. Now, I'm not really very clingy, but if you're over at my house, I expect you to be there for me, not my goddamned computer.
And of all things, he was talking to a Libertarian. In my opinion, those freaks hardly count as people. They want to do away with all government regulation. Hello? Were the days when it was perfectly legal to sell water with chalk mixed in it and call it milk really that great? Was it really that enjoyable to watch children die because their cough syrup had cocaine or laudanum in it? I think not. Libertarians also don't think the American worker has the right to a safe, clean working environment. Animals, the lot of them. (BTW, if you're Libertarian, and you're offended, I don't care. Get a realisic set of political beliefs, then we'll talk.)
And Dirk was going to pay more attention to a political discussion with this nut than to me? He may as well have been trying to discuss politics with someone on an acid trip, for all the good it was doing.
So I got mad, Dirk cried a bit, I felt bad, and we watched "The Secret of NIMH".
Dirk's very sick. His whole family is. I made him take some vitamin C, since I know his family doesn't eat very healthy food.
I also talked to C--. That came as a bit of a surprise. I was going through some web sites when he IM'ed me out of the blue. He was amazingly concerned with my well-being. I wonder, sometimes...