I asked Rambo to get me some chocolate milk. He took my thermos away to go wash it, and then got distracted, as usual. After 15 minutes of waiting I got bored, tried to bug him over msn but he wasn't online. The Music Man was, however. Have a transcript of the conversation that ensued when I tried to get Rambo's attention, edited only slightly to remove real names.
Me: You poke Rambo.
TMM: syntax error
Me: Poke Rambo
TMM: #SYNTAX ERROR
Me: Use stick on Rambo
TMM: successful
Me: Use stick on Rambo
TMM: successful
Me: Use stick on Rambo
TMM: successful
Me: Make chocolate milk
Use chocolate on milk
TMM: no chocolate in bag
Me: Pick up chocolate
TMM: can't find chocolate
Me: Go kitchen
TMM: can't move whilst sitting
Me: Stand up
TMM: you need legs to use that action
Me: Get legs
TMM: can't find legs
Me: Get wheels
TMM: can't find hands to operate wheels
Me: Command Rambo make chocolate milk
TMM: admin password required
Me: < actual root password >
TMM: ***** incorrect password ***** - 3 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.
Me: plenz
42
TMM: ***** incorrect password ***** - 3 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.
***** incorrect password ***** - 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.
Me: open sesame
TMM: ***** incorrect password ***** - 3 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.
***** incorrect password ***** - 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.
***** incorrect password ***** - 1 ATTEMPT REMAINING.
Me: < standard 8-letter lower case, upper case & number password of mine >
TMM: Password Accepted
Me: Command Rambo make chocolate milk
TMM: can not find Rambo
Me: look around
TMM: you see a large room, it has a television, a sofa, some computers and a boss. you may go north, south or dennis
Me: north
TMM: you are standing in the street at midnight, you get mugged and die.
GAME OVER.
Me: Start
Start again
TMM: GAME OVER.
Me: F2
TMM: You are at the north pole. You see snow.
Me: eat snow
TMM: You die from... snow poisoning
GAME OVER
Me: F2
TMM: You are at the north pole. You die of hypothermia.
GAME OVER
Me: F2
TMM: You are at the north pole. You die of hypothermia.
GAME OVER
Me: F2
TMM: You are at the north pole. You die of hypothermia
GAME OVER
Me: F2
TMM: You are at the north pole. You die of hypothermia
GAME. OVER.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair
Someone on TLR was complaining that their code wasn't working right and I, being the benevolent and wonderful person that I am, offered to help, as I would any fellow coder. Especially when they're complaining about CSS. CSS can be so fucking annoying at times. I wanted to take the opportunity to kick CSS's ass for annoying people.
Turns out, he wasn't coding. He was using other people's CSS layouts for his shitty Kingdom Hearts fansite on freehostia. The site itself should have been enough warning for me, but nooo - I had to give him the benefit of the doubt.
So I ask him what he's trying to do, and he shows me the old CSS, takes it down, puts the new CSS up (each stage takes roughly 10 minutes, I don't know why) and all he's trying to do is change the plain background to a fixed image. Simple enough, right? But what's he's done is taken an entire new CSS layout from a different person, that has the background he wants, and used that instead of the old code. Then complained that his old layout wasn't the same. I mean, he was changing roughly 200 lines of CSS here in copying the whole damn file from someone, then wondering why the rest of his site didn't look the same.
So I explain to him that changing the background image is fairly simple, and he should go back to the old CSS file and we'll edit that. I'm still feeling fairly nice and generous at this point, even if I am sitting there seething at him for a) being such an idiot and b) telling me that he was 'coding' in the first place. I figure I got myself into this, for offering to help people. That's what you get for being nice, really. I should know that.
Anyhow, we go back to the old CSS and I give him the chunk of code that he needs and tell him to copy/paste it into the body class of his CSS. Whoops. How stupid of me. I thought maybe, as he was telling me that he was having troubles merging the two CSS files together so they worked properly, that he might understand a tiny bit of CSS. No. Not the case. He takes what I gave him and pastes it straight into the HTML, then cries at me when the raw code shows up on his site rather than actually acting like, y'know, code.
I figure 'okay, it'll be too much work to explain to him about editing the actual CSS file that he took, uploaded, and linked to in the header*, so I'll just make him put things inside style tags in the HTML'. I try this. I give him the exact tags and tell him to copy/paste, before and after the chunk of code I gave him. He ignores that and types them in, with typos, then cries at me because the closing tag wasn't right so it managed to break the rest of his html and now nothing works.
I try to explain to him that he typod in the closing tag, and give him another one to copy/paste. He goes 'but that's exactly what I did!' I tell him it's not, I'm looking at it right now and it blatantly says 'stype' rather than 'style'. He gets a little freaked out that I can read his code, but eventually fixes it.
So okay, we've finally got the background image right. Now the text is too dark and can't be read over the dark background. I ask him if he'd rather make the text lighter or change the background of the 'boxes' (read: scrolling divs) to a lighter colour so that the text can be read. He replies to this with 'huh'. No question mark, so I assume he was just making a 'thinking about it' noise and give him a minute. Or two. Or ten. Then I realise he didn't understand the question. I rephrase it in simpler terms and he chooses to change the backgrounds of the boxes.
Now I have to sit and trawl through the depths of this goddamned ugly, unnoted code in order to find the code for the boxes that we need to change. Whilst doing this I get exasperated at the ugliness of this horrible code and express that to him, hoping for a little sympathy. Instead I get an indignant reply of 'My code isn't ugly! What the fuck!?'
No, really. That's seriously what he said. I am in shock at this point. I'd already worked out that this guy was an idiot, but he really honestly thinks that stealing someone else's code is coding, and that it makes it his code. When he doesn't even understand the most basic concepts of said code. I just...I don't know how to deal with that kind of mind-numbing idiocy and I've just wasted the last hour and a half on him. I can't take anymore. I log off MSN and go bang my head against a wall.
Why didn't I shout at him/block him from MSN/give him anything that he deserves, you ask? Because, like I said, I know this guy from TLR. If I do any of that shit he'll start mouthing off about me in chat and then I'll have to mute him for mouthing off and then people will get mad at me because I, obviously, muted him for mouthing off about me rather than just mouthing off in general and I'm a horrible biased mod who doesn't deserve the title and...
Basically, I didn't want to start any drama. TLR has enough of it as it is**. I shall just not speak in chat for the rest of tonight and pretend my internet died if I see him tomorrow. He'll be over his idiotic problems by then, right?
*How the fuck did he manage to do that part right, by the way? I've not got my head around that, yet.
**If you really want I'll rant about TLR-drama later. And the fact that mods are inhuman monsters that should be fought against with every ounce of willpower you possess. Viva la revolution!***
***If you really need me to tell you that that was sarcasm, please do me a favour and bash your own head against a wall, to save me the trouble.
Turns out, he wasn't coding. He was using other people's CSS layouts for his shitty Kingdom Hearts fansite on freehostia. The site itself should have been enough warning for me, but nooo - I had to give him the benefit of the doubt.
So I ask him what he's trying to do, and he shows me the old CSS, takes it down, puts the new CSS up (each stage takes roughly 10 minutes, I don't know why) and all he's trying to do is change the plain background to a fixed image. Simple enough, right? But what's he's done is taken an entire new CSS layout from a different person, that has the background he wants, and used that instead of the old code. Then complained that his old layout wasn't the same. I mean, he was changing roughly 200 lines of CSS here in copying the whole damn file from someone, then wondering why the rest of his site didn't look the same.
So I explain to him that changing the background image is fairly simple, and he should go back to the old CSS file and we'll edit that. I'm still feeling fairly nice and generous at this point, even if I am sitting there seething at him for a) being such an idiot and b) telling me that he was 'coding' in the first place. I figure I got myself into this, for offering to help people. That's what you get for being nice, really. I should know that.
Anyhow, we go back to the old CSS and I give him the chunk of code that he needs and tell him to copy/paste it into the body class of his CSS. Whoops. How stupid of me. I thought maybe, as he was telling me that he was having troubles merging the two CSS files together so they worked properly, that he might understand a tiny bit of CSS. No. Not the case. He takes what I gave him and pastes it straight into the HTML, then cries at me when the raw code shows up on his site rather than actually acting like, y'know, code.
I figure 'okay, it'll be too much work to explain to him about editing the actual CSS file that he took, uploaded, and linked to in the header*, so I'll just make him put things inside style tags in the HTML'. I try this. I give him the exact tags and tell him to copy/paste, before and after the chunk of code I gave him. He ignores that and types them in, with typos, then cries at me because the closing tag wasn't right so it managed to break the rest of his html and now nothing works.
I try to explain to him that he typod in the closing tag, and give him another one to copy/paste. He goes 'but that's exactly what I did!' I tell him it's not, I'm looking at it right now and it blatantly says 'stype' rather than 'style'. He gets a little freaked out that I can read his code, but eventually fixes it.
So okay, we've finally got the background image right. Now the text is too dark and can't be read over the dark background. I ask him if he'd rather make the text lighter or change the background of the 'boxes' (read: scrolling divs) to a lighter colour so that the text can be read. He replies to this with 'huh'. No question mark, so I assume he was just making a 'thinking about it' noise and give him a minute. Or two. Or ten. Then I realise he didn't understand the question. I rephrase it in simpler terms and he chooses to change the backgrounds of the boxes.
Now I have to sit and trawl through the depths of this goddamned ugly, unnoted code in order to find the code for the boxes that we need to change. Whilst doing this I get exasperated at the ugliness of this horrible code and express that to him, hoping for a little sympathy. Instead I get an indignant reply of 'My code isn't ugly! What the fuck!?'
No, really. That's seriously what he said. I am in shock at this point. I'd already worked out that this guy was an idiot, but he really honestly thinks that stealing someone else's code is coding, and that it makes it his code. When he doesn't even understand the most basic concepts of said code. I just...I don't know how to deal with that kind of mind-numbing idiocy and I've just wasted the last hour and a half on him. I can't take anymore. I log off MSN and go bang my head against a wall.
Why didn't I shout at him/block him from MSN/give him anything that he deserves, you ask? Because, like I said, I know this guy from TLR. If I do any of that shit he'll start mouthing off about me in chat and then I'll have to mute him for mouthing off and then people will get mad at me because I, obviously, muted him for mouthing off about me rather than just mouthing off in general and I'm a horrible biased mod who doesn't deserve the title and...
Basically, I didn't want to start any drama. TLR has enough of it as it is**. I shall just not speak in chat for the rest of tonight and pretend my internet died if I see him tomorrow. He'll be over his idiotic problems by then, right?
*How the fuck did he manage to do that part right, by the way? I've not got my head around that, yet.
**If you really want I'll rant about TLR-drama later. And the fact that mods are inhuman monsters that should be fought against with every ounce of willpower you possess. Viva la revolution!***
***If you really need me to tell you that that was sarcasm, please do me a favour and bash your own head against a wall, to save me the trouble.
Friday, 6 August 2010
BOYS!
Feeling kind of excluded and left out of things. Rambo and The Music Man are spending all their time playing video games together and I'm stuck up here lying in bed because being out of bed just hurts too much. I'm so bored and lonely. I know, there's a whole internet full of lovely people to talk to*, but that won't cure my loneliness, that's not what I want. I don't want to talk; I'm not a very talkative person. I just want to sit with Rambo and cuddle for a bit, that's all.
I'd tell him this, but the last time I did that he told TMM and they just sat there laughing at me being girly. Rambo has no goddamned tact.
I'm sure there were other things that I wanted to say, but my memory really is that shitty that I can't really remember most of today.
Oh, wait, I know. Rent was due today. We can't really pay it. Rambo managed to lose £300 worth of cheques after I nagged him for a week straight to go down to the bank and cash them. Fairly certain they're in the house somewhere but been looking for a week and can't find them. I'm sure if he'd just clean the fucking house they'd turn up but even with £300 riding on it he'd rather sit around playing video games and going 'Eh, it's not that bad. We don't need the money. We pay rent late all the time!'
I've tried cleaning myself but I don't get very far before I need to collapse and then by the time I've got the energy to try again it's worse than when I started.
Again, who the fuck thought it was a good idea to live with two boys?
...I brought this on myself. I know it. But on the one hand, it's sort of a good thing - if I was living with girls, they'd shout at me for being untidy, rather than the other way around.
*Yes, I mean you guys. You're all lovely. <3
I'd tell him this, but the last time I did that he told TMM and they just sat there laughing at me being girly. Rambo has no goddamned tact.
I'm sure there were other things that I wanted to say, but my memory really is that shitty that I can't really remember most of today.
Oh, wait, I know. Rent was due today. We can't really pay it. Rambo managed to lose £300 worth of cheques after I nagged him for a week straight to go down to the bank and cash them. Fairly certain they're in the house somewhere but been looking for a week and can't find them. I'm sure if he'd just clean the fucking house they'd turn up but even with £300 riding on it he'd rather sit around playing video games and going 'Eh, it's not that bad. We don't need the money. We pay rent late all the time!'
I've tried cleaning myself but I don't get very far before I need to collapse and then by the time I've got the energy to try again it's worse than when I started.
Again, who the fuck thought it was a good idea to live with two boys?
...I brought this on myself. I know it. But on the one hand, it's sort of a good thing - if I was living with girls, they'd shout at me for being untidy, rather than the other way around.
*Yes, I mean you guys. You're all lovely. <3
Thursday, 5 August 2010
I Can Has Puppy?
My legs are feeling better today and the stairs aren't feeling quite so mountainous. Although my upper body isn't doing so well. I took advantage of being able to use the stairs and did some laundry and tidied my living room a little bit. Now I'm having to rest again, but I feel much better about the resting when I've actually done something productive first.
I'm guessing it is the chair, and I'm just going to have to deal with needing a day to recover after being out for a day in it. Like I didn't spend enough time resting as it is.
Annoying the neighbours with loud music whilst I rest. Singing can be very therapeutic at times.
As a side note - if anyone happens to know of any puppies going free, I would love one. Been trying to find one since my sister moved out and the cheapest I've come across (that isn't, you know, in Cornwall) is £200. Even the rescue centres around here ask for a 'donation' of £100, and they don't have any puppies. I want a puppy. I want to train it from scratch and build a bond from puppy-hood, y'know? Never had a chance to do that before.
Gimme a damn puppy, people. Pet therapy and all that. Is an essential medical need! *cough* No really.
Preferably of the big, fluffy, cuddly variety.
I'm guessing it is the chair, and I'm just going to have to deal with needing a day to recover after being out for a day in it. Like I didn't spend enough time resting as it is.
Annoying the neighbours with loud music whilst I rest. Singing can be very therapeutic at times.
As a side note - if anyone happens to know of any puppies going free, I would love one. Been trying to find one since my sister moved out and the cheapest I've come across (that isn't, you know, in Cornwall) is £200. Even the rescue centres around here ask for a 'donation' of £100, and they don't have any puppies. I want a puppy. I want to train it from scratch and build a bond from puppy-hood, y'know? Never had a chance to do that before.
Gimme a damn puppy, people. Pet therapy and all that. Is an essential medical need! *cough* No really.
Preferably of the big, fluffy, cuddly variety.
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Questions
I swear my knees and ankles are getting worse. It never used to be this much of a struggle to go up and down the stairs. Sure, it was painful and difficult at times, when something was already out of place, but as a general everyday thing, it wasn't that bad.
It is now.
I don't understand why. Is it the wheelchair? I have noticed my knees stiffening up after I'm in it for a while, and the vibrations are certainly hell when I pop my knee out (I keep trying to kick doors open from the chair, heh. Usually on request. I should really explain how much that hurts.)
But I really don't want to stop using the chair, it's great and so much less painful than walking. Plus I only really use it for going into town and the like, I still walk to the corner shop and closer places, which is pretty much all I used to do, but the chair allows me to go out, for hours at a time, and I've been loving that. But is it making me worse?
Is it maybe all the bumping around when Rambo and TMM are fucking about or just generally not being careful with me? I know it hurts at the time, and I have noticed when I got out of the chair a couple times it was hurting more than normal to walk.
If it's them fucking around, should I shout at them about it? Should I get an electric chair so I can push myself? Will that help, or is it the vibrations? Is it the horrible pavements in Manchester that slope in all the wrong directions, rarely have ramps on the kerbs, and are often potholed/gravelly - or, at the worst - cobblestoned?
No other EDSer I know has complained about their wheelchairs making them worse, either through vibrations or sitting still too long or being bumped around, so is it the chair? Do they just have better drivers and better streets?
If it's not the chair, is this just another one of those horribly fast deteriorations of EDS hitting me? Will I level out again soon? Is it possible to find a physiotherapist who actually knows something about EDS and might be able to stop me deteriorating? That I can actually afford? I've seen a few around, but ranging between £25 and £40 per session. I can't afford that. I could maybe manage £5 a session, but even then I'd be complaining about it, as it would cost me a further £5 to get there and back.
If this gets any worse, will I have to move house? I love living three doors down from my Dad but these stairs are killing me. My house seems to have extra-steep stairs, too. If I have to move house, will I be able to? I've tried looking, before, for ground-floor flats and bungalows, but they're either ridiculously expensive, or don't allow people under 65. What the hell is that about? Are the elderly the only people with mobility problems? I tried living on a third floor flat before, rather than a ground floor, but the lift broke down constantly and no-one seemed to care enough to fix it in any sort of sane time period. That was hell on me, too, and that was three years ago. I've gotten so much worse since then.
If I can't move house, and I can't handle these stairs any more, what the fuck do I do? The NHS certainly won't pay for a stairlift or anything, and even if they did...my landlord knows nothing about my problems. He knows nothing, because he, like most landlords, specifically won't take tenants who are on benefits. If he finds out, will I get kicked out of my house? Where will I be able to live? The council certainly don't care about finding me a house that's suitable. We can barely afford this place as it is, expensive bungalows/ground-floor flats are out of the question.
If I had a proper diagnosis, would it help matters? How do I get one when none of the doctors know anything about it? How do I get to go see a doctor that does? The nearest specialist place is a children's hospital in Sheffield. That's expensive to get to, even if it wasn't a children's hospital. The only other place in England now is London, as the Leeds one's shutting down. London's both expensive to get to, and hell on my joints. Last time I tried it was a five and a half hour bus journey and I was in tears by the end.
It is now.
I don't understand why. Is it the wheelchair? I have noticed my knees stiffening up after I'm in it for a while, and the vibrations are certainly hell when I pop my knee out (I keep trying to kick doors open from the chair, heh. Usually on request. I should really explain how much that hurts.)
But I really don't want to stop using the chair, it's great and so much less painful than walking. Plus I only really use it for going into town and the like, I still walk to the corner shop and closer places, which is pretty much all I used to do, but the chair allows me to go out, for hours at a time, and I've been loving that. But is it making me worse?
Is it maybe all the bumping around when Rambo and TMM are fucking about or just generally not being careful with me? I know it hurts at the time, and I have noticed when I got out of the chair a couple times it was hurting more than normal to walk.
If it's them fucking around, should I shout at them about it? Should I get an electric chair so I can push myself? Will that help, or is it the vibrations? Is it the horrible pavements in Manchester that slope in all the wrong directions, rarely have ramps on the kerbs, and are often potholed/gravelly - or, at the worst - cobblestoned?
No other EDSer I know has complained about their wheelchairs making them worse, either through vibrations or sitting still too long or being bumped around, so is it the chair? Do they just have better drivers and better streets?
If it's not the chair, is this just another one of those horribly fast deteriorations of EDS hitting me? Will I level out again soon? Is it possible to find a physiotherapist who actually knows something about EDS and might be able to stop me deteriorating? That I can actually afford? I've seen a few around, but ranging between £25 and £40 per session. I can't afford that. I could maybe manage £5 a session, but even then I'd be complaining about it, as it would cost me a further £5 to get there and back.
If this gets any worse, will I have to move house? I love living three doors down from my Dad but these stairs are killing me. My house seems to have extra-steep stairs, too. If I have to move house, will I be able to? I've tried looking, before, for ground-floor flats and bungalows, but they're either ridiculously expensive, or don't allow people under 65. What the hell is that about? Are the elderly the only people with mobility problems? I tried living on a third floor flat before, rather than a ground floor, but the lift broke down constantly and no-one seemed to care enough to fix it in any sort of sane time period. That was hell on me, too, and that was three years ago. I've gotten so much worse since then.
If I can't move house, and I can't handle these stairs any more, what the fuck do I do? The NHS certainly won't pay for a stairlift or anything, and even if they did...my landlord knows nothing about my problems. He knows nothing, because he, like most landlords, specifically won't take tenants who are on benefits. If he finds out, will I get kicked out of my house? Where will I be able to live? The council certainly don't care about finding me a house that's suitable. We can barely afford this place as it is, expensive bungalows/ground-floor flats are out of the question.
If I had a proper diagnosis, would it help matters? How do I get one when none of the doctors know anything about it? How do I get to go see a doctor that does? The nearest specialist place is a children's hospital in Sheffield. That's expensive to get to, even if it wasn't a children's hospital. The only other place in England now is London, as the Leeds one's shutting down. London's both expensive to get to, and hell on my joints. Last time I tried it was a five and a half hour bus journey and I was in tears by the end.
Useless
My house is looking sort of-not really-not by normal person standards clean! Yay? I dunno. I think it's about as clean now as it was when The Music Man moved in. It says a lot about how bad it got that I'm so pleased by this now. He's failing at being a housekeeper. Stupid boys. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to live with boys? Seriously?!
In other news - I've been so brain-dead since FFM finished that I've just slept the days away, when I've not been crying with pain. Getting quite sick of this abdominal pain now, but still haven't managed to get a doctor's appointment as they're rather shitty about it up here and insist that they can't book one in advance and I need to call at 8 o'clock in the morning to try and get one. Which I do, when I can manage to both remember and wake up in time, and then can't get through until 8:30, at which point they tell me that there are none left. This is just...ridiculous. I was barely coping with my normal level of pain and no working painkillers, add extra on top of it and I just...Jesus. I can't cope. Make it stop.
I can't laugh, I can't cry, I can't sneeze, I can't cough, I can't breathe deeply, I can't yawn...except...I can do all those things, and do do them, involuntarily. And then I spend the next five-ten minutes silently screaming*.
So, yeah. Feeling about as utterly useless and unproductive as it is possible to be right about now. Spending all my time crying and sleeping and eating. Except I'm managing to write a blog post, look! That counts as productive, right? ...Right?
Ugh.
*What, you don't understand silent screaming? Then you've obviously never had to deal with chronic pain. Lucky you.
In other news - I've been so brain-dead since FFM finished that I've just slept the days away, when I've not been crying with pain. Getting quite sick of this abdominal pain now, but still haven't managed to get a doctor's appointment as they're rather shitty about it up here and insist that they can't book one in advance and I need to call at 8 o'clock in the morning to try and get one. Which I do, when I can manage to both remember and wake up in time, and then can't get through until 8:30, at which point they tell me that there are none left. This is just...ridiculous. I was barely coping with my normal level of pain and no working painkillers, add extra on top of it and I just...Jesus. I can't cope. Make it stop.
I can't laugh, I can't cry, I can't sneeze, I can't cough, I can't breathe deeply, I can't yawn...except...I can do all those things, and do do them, involuntarily. And then I spend the next five-ten minutes silently screaming*.
So, yeah. Feeling about as utterly useless and unproductive as it is possible to be right about now. Spending all my time crying and sleeping and eating. Except I'm managing to write a blog post, look! That counts as productive, right? ...Right?
Ugh.
*What, you don't understand silent screaming? Then you've obviously never had to deal with chronic pain. Lucky you.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
July Is Over!
Flash Fiction Month is OVER!
I got my last story done at five minutes to midnight. So damn pleased with myself.
Final tally count for the last month is 30 flash fictions, 55 55-word stories and five poems as I apparently have a little bit of an addiction and needed a rhyme fix halfway through.
I also somehow seem to have volunteered myself to make a website for next year's FlaFiWriMo so we can take it off dA and make it somewhat more respectable.
I also somehow seem to have ended up as an admin for a community novel project.
I also, somehow, ended up taking on an insanely large coding project. I'll not go into details now but think D&D/MUD/RP type stuff and you'll be on the right track. Possible income, apparently. *shrugs*
Feeling a little thinly spread at the minute.
...Oh, you wanted to hear about real life stuff? Well, I've had some weird abdominal pain for the last week or so. No idea what's going on but going to the doctor next week. The suggestions thrown at me have ranged from a simple UTI to a pulled muscle to kidney stones to coeliac's disease*. Nobody knows what's going on basically. In lots of extra pain and very worried and confused about it. I hate having pain that I don't understand. It's the worst part of pain.
The Music Man just got back from a ska festival in Wales with his new band, apparently it was insanely awesome, but his laptop got stolen. Is covered by home insurance but we literally only got that like a week ago and I'm not sure how well that claim's going to go down.
Still having no luck with benefits. All very confusing and too much for my poor dead brain. FFM has eaten all of my cognitive functions. Ate them all right up. And they won't even let me rest now - August is crit/edit month.
*Cross your fingers for me. If it's coeliac's then I'm no longer allowed gluten. I fucking love my gluten.
I got my last story done at five minutes to midnight. So damn pleased with myself.
Final tally count for the last month is 30 flash fictions, 55 55-word stories and five poems as I apparently have a little bit of an addiction and needed a rhyme fix halfway through.
I also somehow seem to have volunteered myself to make a website for next year's FlaFiWriMo so we can take it off dA and make it somewhat more respectable.
I also somehow seem to have ended up as an admin for a community novel project.
I also, somehow, ended up taking on an insanely large coding project. I'll not go into details now but think D&D/MUD/RP type stuff and you'll be on the right track. Possible income, apparently. *shrugs*
Feeling a little thinly spread at the minute.
...Oh, you wanted to hear about real life stuff? Well, I've had some weird abdominal pain for the last week or so. No idea what's going on but going to the doctor next week. The suggestions thrown at me have ranged from a simple UTI to a pulled muscle to kidney stones to coeliac's disease*. Nobody knows what's going on basically. In lots of extra pain and very worried and confused about it. I hate having pain that I don't understand. It's the worst part of pain.
The Music Man just got back from a ska festival in Wales with his new band, apparently it was insanely awesome, but his laptop got stolen. Is covered by home insurance but we literally only got that like a week ago and I'm not sure how well that claim's going to go down.
Still having no luck with benefits. All very confusing and too much for my poor dead brain. FFM has eaten all of my cognitive functions. Ate them all right up. And they won't even let me rest now - August is crit/edit month.
*Cross your fingers for me. If it's coeliac's then I'm no longer allowed gluten. I fucking love my gluten.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)