Sep. 23rd, 2011 09:17 am
the_goren_show: (Default)
The loneliest thing there is is a smartphone that used to chirp regularly with messages having fallen silent.

I keep checking and there keeps being no messages.

I feel forlorn and forgotten, and though I probably deserve the silent treatment, I still hurt.

Nothing to do but carry on.
the_goren_show: (serious muse)

I'm trying to be strong and it's not easy.  This song is one of my favourites when I feel like this.

Lyrics under cut )
the_goren_show: (serious muse)
A snippet of a tune stuck in there that I had no lyrics to reminded me that it's time to clean mine out again.  It's all clogged up with little bits of thoughts and shards of ideas that weren't as bright as I once imagined them to be and the random bits that manage to float to the surface are all getting to be a bit much.  I wish I had access to a lake or large body of water where I could just float on my back and watch the sky for hours, weightless on the tides.  I would be the flotsam and jetsam and stop being me with my insecurities and flaws.

The tradition remains unchanged.

This is our ungodly hour.

I envy those who cast their cares to the religion of their choice, trusting in gods I can no longer believe in that it will all work out alright.  It doesn't always work out alright and some times good people lose and it's not because 'God' willed it or had bigger plans for them.  It's simply the way the world works.  One roll of a dice, one person who turned away thinking another would step up and help and - that's it, life's over.

Time for coffee and then another day of smiling plastically at people, hoping they don't look in my eyes and see the truth.  I want someone to notice and yet, it's far more work than it's worth.
the_goren_show: (serious muse)
And life goes on but it's getting harder and harder to breathe.

Work was work.  More plumbing emergencies, more emergency entries to suites, more yelling at the stressed guy behind the counter who is starting to think that going back to guarding gravel pits is an acceptable career option.

Max blew a headlight this morning in the -30 temperature.  I have already gone and bought the replacement but can't bring myself to try changing it.  Just thinking about attempting it sets my anxiety into overdrive as anything involved with the car seems to just right now.

I'm about ready to find a sanitarium and rent myself a room.
the_goren_show: (Default)

Last week, I was in a hurry to get the million dollar house checked and forgot to take the key with me, forcing me to return home and pick it up.  Annoyed with myself and distracted by the jackass who lives in the apartment under us (god I wanted to run into him and introduce my fist to his face), I missed the bottom two steps of the carpeted staircase and fell.  I bounced off the radiator, off the steps, dropped the Crackberry and came to rest in a very unnatural position on the landing between the second and third floors.

My first thought wasn't my aching body or twisted limbs, it was for the Crackberry because if I was bleeding in the hallway, no one would come to help.  Once I saw the phone was good (the case had popped off, absorbing the impact and leaving the Torch untouched) I tested all my limbs and other than my left shoulder being borked, I was good.  I went on with my errands for the day and it wasn't until I got home that I realized I hurt like hell.

I was in a sling for a couple of days but it appears I was bruised more than anything - other than embarrassed that I fell down the stairs.  And I was right, not a fucking person opened a door to see if I was okay. Which is probably for the best, I'd have torn someone's head off to make meat tacos.
the_goren_show: (facepalm)
Screw that, a very bad week because of winter blasts constantly below -20 C and oftentimes with the windchill reaching -30 C.  The snow that falls gets packed to the roads thanks to the snowmelt stuff they use to try and keep it clear.  The snowmelt cakes to the cars and gets everywhere - on pants, coats, shoes.  Worst of all is that when it is constantly that cold, the snowmelt mixture can't keep up and the roads get black ice on them as the blowing snow polishes the packed down and melted snow and slush to a perfect sheen.

I drive carefully in these conditions, erring on the slow side of cautious when going down hills because you never know when the bottom of the slope will be black ice.  After a hard mushy brained week where I was distracted constantly by a lot of shit, I was looking forward to driving carefully to a millionaires neighbourhood, doing my house check and then going home to settle in to stay warm for two days until I go back to work and it's supposed to be a little warmer.  Mr. Max and I set out for the slow inexorable drive to the big house and then home through a clear but bitterly cold day.

I never got out of sight of work before the big fuck with me hammer fell. )
Needless to say, I ache and I'm not sure how I'm going to face getting back in the car tomorrow.  It's supposed to be a little warmer and the city should have had time to go out and sand and grade the roads but I'm going to have to take an Ativan to turn the key and I hate that.  I don't like having to be drugged to do anything, much less drive on hazardous roads.  Monday, I will have to take a different and notoriously accident prone road to work and I'm not happy about that at all because everyone else will be in the same boat as I.  The street I usually take and am comfortable with is closed for three weeks for utility work, so I'm stuck with the deadly route.

I hate winter.
the_goren_show: (sigh)

and two steps back.

I don't want to go into why yet, but this is exactly how I feel right now.

The joy of my NaNo win lasted all of a half hour before life reared up and kicked me in the ribs again.

Then again, joy really has always just been a placeholder between tragedies for me.

Fuck my life.


the_goren_show: (Default)

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