Wickedly Random

There's (almost) nothing worse than waking up just before you have to leave for work. Such is the fate of this dark being, who took far longer untangling herself from the clutches of the Dreaded R.E.M. than usual.

This is why sleep should be avoided at all costs.

So, I just learned that you can watch TV on abc and nbc.com. That's just fucking cool. Everyone should do that. Believe me, when I don't have to pick between my PC and TV, the world is a much nicer place. A small slow in the decent downwards, and all that. Mehehh.

*sigh*

What a worthless blog post.

....And I should probably go to work.

Dammit all to a spiraling Hell....

Resurrected Doom

I swear, I come back from the offline dead more times than Cloud Strife with a Phoenix Down IV.

Heh.

Great. I'm only blogging for three seconds and I'm already emoting grotesque amounts of nerdiness. There's a time and a place for that: conventions. Anyway...

I don't have terribly much to share. To be pointedly honest, I think I just wanted to hear the comforting sound of the keyboard clicking. Internet Junkies everywhere can attest to the effect that sound can have on you. And given my demanding work schedule as of late, I should really just record the sound for my damned iDoom and be done with it already.

*sigh*

Today's my first day off in the span of thirteen. The mere concept of free time has become something of a dim memory, but I daresay, I'm sure I'll find something to do. Be it the shiny stack of new anime I have sitting on my desk, or the badass emulation of Super Mario RPG I have sitting in my hard drive, I shall immerse myself in profound digital escapism.

Escape from what?

This may or may not be a question asked.

There are only two words that can properly answer that:

Black. Friday.

I already pseudo blogged about that nightmare, so I shan't repeat myself, but needless to say, I'm less than enthuisastic about the latter end of this week. Granted, I don't think I'm ever actually enthuisastic about anything, so perhaps that makes the point irrelevant.....huh...

I guess even in downward spiral one can still talk in circles.

Internetless Blog Chronicle

Internetless Blog Chronicle

Suppossedly my glorified Internet is going to be reconnected today.

I shan't hold my breath and bust out any odes to joy just yet, however. Ever pessimistic, I await an inevitable hinderance to that which feeds an unruly obbession so fearsome, that it will shake the pages of history for eons....

Heh.

Overdramatic.

Stepping back from that excercise in literary melodrama, I do hope it is returned to me with the utmost expediency. I'm fairly certain that my brain my implode soon from the utter lack of real-world distraction.

Not gonna lie, I'm a fan of digital escapism.

Wish I could escape from work this evening. Of course, I need the funds. I got nailed with a $340 medical bill of the She-Beast's that was thrown in [I]my[/I] name, because I was the patient in question at the time.

The time being seven years ago.

I was thirteen years old.

Wonderful what you can be made liable for these days...

I'm so glad that it's been tacked onto my credit history since the day I turned eighteen, despite my never having gotten a bill. Not that I should have in the first place, since it wasn't mine to begin with. I was always leery that such a thing would happen to me, and indeed, I've come to meet that doom in my trek down the spiral.

At least aforementioned "work" only includes around five hours of Blue Clad Slavery. The twelve and a half usually found as a Manufacturing Minion would be a thing of unbearable horror, were that my fate for the evening.

As Alice Cooper once put it, "It's the little things."

In matters of current events, we've a realtor lurking through The Compound. The Bastardly Parental Units have decided to sell, making this not only a prime opportunity to move out myself, but to put on display all those materialistic things that really shouldn't matter so much.

Yet they do.

Ironically, for all their scoffing at what I spent on my home theater setup, it might just be the icing on what would otherwise be a rather mundane cake. Not that it would go with the house, but it helps greatly when one has to try and visualize this as a habitable place.

Heh. Said realtor just walked in here.

"Welcome to my dungeon." said I.

Not used to people walking in my room. It's an odd feeling, and a stark reminder of why I'm glad I never had friends to have over as a wee one. Missed out on strange little trolls ravaging through my junk, snooping, and making cluttered messes of their own.

Score another one for solitude.

Internetless Blog Chronicle

(Because I have nothing better to do than blog offline)

I'm Internetless again.

Heh. If that's not a broken record at this point, I don't know what is.

Actually, I've been Internetless for a couple months now. Eight, if you count lack of Internet to my Vaio of Doom. We had a wireless air card for the Gateway of Grey Doom for a time, but once again the spiral proved it's lack of resistance to gravity...

Thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet, but I tell you wholeblackheartedly, the Christmas season is upon us already, especially at Blue Clad Slavery. Plans have already been made, and the nights are already getting longer. I cringe at the thought of Black Friday, whence I will inevitably working more than a full shift there, only to go forth to meet my doom as a Manufacturing Minion right after.

Nothing like a 24 shift to give your inner insomnaic a real kick in the head.

The only sliver of light coming off that long forgotten becon of hope, is the birthday that resides amidst all the horror and chaos that is the Holiday Season. The last great birthday of importance, before age becomes a thing muttered regretfully, and with bitter disdain.

The Twenty-First.

A literal grail of alchololic holiness.

Even in all my antisocialism, schemes have been plotted, and I shall be partaking in a place outside The Compound (my house). They say you only live once, and rest assured, it's all downhill from here on out.

Not that it wasn't ever not downhill, but the few and far between plateaus are coming to an end.

Heh. I think sometimes I'm far too cynical for my own good, and that my terrible imagination is going to be the utter ruination of me. I'd like to look on the brightside, and see a shiny future full of success and happiness, but that just makes me want to wretch all over my black straightjacket, and that would just be uncool.

Ah well.

What's that repetitive phrase?

Oh yes.

Ever the downward sprial....