Session planning when the sessions are spinning wildly out of control is a little hard, because you know I'm not sure what's going to happen when Alice McFuckingLaughlin wakes up from her "nap". Eric kinda has been willingly kidnapped in a rash of unadulterated Lada Gaga, which we know is dangerous for any involved parties. There is a meek little librarian afraid of being eaten by a hippie French elf, and Yllani seems intent on spontaneously generating gay uniformed elves that are turning me into a fangirl of my own creations, which I'm sure is an act of serious narcissism, but now that I think about it Andre and Francois are so cute you guys.
Life is continuing along it's tracks and things are going well. I have some less metal and foldy chairs added to the living room (and one in my bedroom for good measure and reading). I am playing so much tabletop these days that it's a little gross; I might be a bit skewed in this thinking because so much of my time is spent planning out what might happen next in Fastar. The new chairs (and new couch! right! it's so nice!) have done me good thanks to the massive amount of coming and going people have been doing in my apartment recently.
My cat continues to get huge. Hamlet now weighs nearly 14 lbs, and while I love to rub his tummy and call him fatty, he really isn't fat -- he's just big. Big big cat. But so very sweet, if a little full of claws and teeth when it's play time. I love him.
Life life life, I'm continuing to do it. Enjoying the holiday season, been off all week, and just got home today after a few days of laying on my ass playing video games and reading and gaming and session planning. Heading back to Jackson in time for Thanksgiving dinner Saturday with friends, and a D&D game Sunday. Followed by work and Fastar on Monday, and the cycle continues.
I am so boring! I am sorry.
You know what I like? I like the fact that I will have money again. I like that I can spend wildly and still afford monthly things. I like that soon, oh so soon, I will have a real couch, and maybe even a real thing to put my TV on, and maybe some real chairs that are less metal and foldy.
But I DON'T like my tiny amounts of free time these days! Those Hetalia kinks I started like 2 months ago? Not finished. Haven't touched them in like a month and a half. Need to get after that, and I hope I can do it this weekend. I have piles -- literally -- of things to read. I have a stack of video games too high that I haven't finished, and an equally as high stack that I haven't even started. I have movies I want to watch, and TV shows to catch up on. Work on Fastar that needs to be done, and I keep adding to it! Something needs to go.
I think a nice week of vacation would help me accomplish most things. I could write my crap, and then I could beat a couple of video games. Whittle down the book stack.
As it stands, my weekends provide little real relief; they have LOTS going on. And it's totally not like I dislike this. Oh goodness no, I love being busy. But shit! I need some more time in my days.
I need a small 4 day weekend. Friday-Monday thing. Then... then everything will be done. EVERYTHING. AHAHAHAHAHA
Today, while returning home from necessary shoppings, I sat in my car in front of my apartment and cried. I blame this on my stupid radio and stupid Amanda Palmer, for writing a song with the lyrics "just because they call themselves friends doesn't mean they'll call", a song I first heard when I was very lonely and having a very hard time reconciling my and my tiny number of friends' definition of friendship.
It made me cry today for a few reasons. One, apparently I'm just weepy. Nearly bawled when Wake Up started playing over the grocery PA yesterday. Two, remembering what those days felt like for me, and how really, the resolution to the problem was to simply accept that what I needed from those friends I wasn't ever going to get (a hardly satisfactory conclusion). And three, knowing how things are different now.
Gratefully I find it hard to not be busy during the week. I have trips to look forward to, and activities that extend beyond the surface level enjoyment of a bunch of friendly acquaintances. I have had meaningful conversations, bonding, relating to other people. I see people, I communicate, I am asked to be involved and contribute. To be more than a spectator.
This is what I need. To feel like I have people that want me around enough to be the friends that call. (or text, or tweet, or whatever.) I am a weepy, sad excuse for a human tonight, but I am excessively happy that the reason for this has nothing to do with being alone, with being bored, or with hating myself for my inadequacies (including the low self esteem feeding into this pitiful loathing in the first place). I'm glad I can easily blame this on PMS. I can write it off because I know that things are good now.
My presence would be noticed if gone, and that makes a big difference.
I will also blame tonight's unnecessary introspection on PMS. Ha! Take that overies! You suck.