God dammit. I was just opening my new Utilikilt – the new black workman’s I bought after selling the Survival last month – and I did one of those stupid things.

I keep my knives really really sharp. And I picked up the package and grabbed my gerber folder and slash. Only my aim was off and my finger happened to be right there.

And you know I slashed much much harder than I needed to. Taking out a little anger and frustration on the inanimate object, I guess, after a very disordered and frustrating day yesterday.

So I didn’t just cut my fingertip. I fuckin’ hacked it. Normally a super-sharp knife cut feels like almost nothing, but this felt like I’d just slammed my finger in a car door. And then it started bleeding.

I’m still soakin’ through bandaids. And typing without the use of my left index finger. Good thing blood and pain don’t bother me.

ok, so it’s way too nice suddenly in sunny northern california to be inside or anywhere near a computer. I want to take the top off my jeep and just go, beach, mountains, whatever. Just out-fucking-side.

Damn work.

I don’t wanna be anywhere near computers…

No, I didn’t run off today and play hookey. I didn’t go get tattooed or blow work off to go drink beer or ride my motorcycle in the blue blue sunshine.

I didn’t even blog much.

Instead, I worked. Or at least tried to, though I’m finding concentration hard without a day off. Somehow this many straight days working doesn’t play like it did when I was in my twenties, when I could do 12 hour days seven days a week for months and still go out drinking at night. And work well, and hard.

Meetings, and shell scripting, and the usual users with problems who need help right now but can’t describe the problem; that’s my day. And tech support for newly mac’d friends, which is the good part. I wish I could get paid to only support people I like.

Now that the sun’s out, finally, I’m immediately taken with the desire to get out, to be outside, to feel the sun. It’s suddenly so much harder to get anything done when out there is so stunning, warm and clear. I think about sailboats and sunny shorts and being deep under water, and it’s oh-so-hard to care about work. Daydreams rule me when it’s like this. It makes me want to run, and it also makes me want to write. I’m having ideas for stories again after months of not really feeling inspired, but as always I run into the time shortage that rules my life. I have to go do something all the time. A day, a week, a month, does not contain enough hours to manage all the things that must be done.

Maybe I could give up sleeping.

No, I’d rather give up working.

I had a daydream today about asking the chef at my local sushi bar for a job. I have the knife skills, easily. I know my way around a kitchen, I know sushi (if you knew sushi, like I know… Sorry.) I can do the whole shtick, the shouting and bravado. Man, how much simpler things would be, fun fish and drink with customers all evening. I can make a killer spicy tuna, and poke that tastes just like you get in Hawaii. Who cares that I’m not asian, man, I can do this. I wonder if they’d let me work in a kilt. It makes me understand the temptation my friends have to get the fuck away from computers, to do work where they’re not sitting down all day. I’m not made to sit still this much, not made to do work that’s so abstract. I need to do something that makes a difference now.

Instead, I’m going to go write another shell script. ‘Cause someone has to.

I’m still without a decent computer; managing at work with an old Sun Sparc u60 with an out-of-focus monitor, and an incredibly slow g4 tiBook.

If I’m not particularly communicative, that’s why. I’m finding the basic tasks of computation frustrating. You get spoiled, I find, having a really good computer.

Evidently my boss is working on getting me a decent machine but not ETA.

Grumble. Grumble.

Well, jolly fucking nice.

My laptop just died. This is my only computer, my work machine, my play machine. My fuckin’ life is on that machine.

Ok, ok, so most everything that matters is backed up, aside form some photos and some music. I try not to keep important shit on that computer. But still, all my bookmarks, all my cached passwords for the bazilion sites I have accounts on.

Crap.

AND of course I’m now unable to work, or write, or anything. And it’d friday, which means even if machines are available at work, it’ll be days before I can get my mits on one.

Fuck me. I’m going away someplace where it’s sunny and where they’ve never heard of the fuckling internet. Call me next year.

Read more “Entry number 666”

I won’t sing that song but you know the song I mean.

God, I don’t want it to be monday. I’ve been trying to drag my sorry ass up outta the chair to get dressed for work for at least a fuckin’ hour and I can’t face the idea. I’m in that irritating place where I’m mostly well but don’t have my energy back; I feel enough better that I’m happy about being better, but not enough better that I can deal with picking up the loose ends I left lying around last week.

I keep thinking about swaying palm trees and tropical breezes and a delicious, Beautiful island girl by my side. Someone fetch me a coconut full of rum and then rub some oil on my shoulders, hmmm?

Ok. Here’s me getting into my jeans and going to work. Really. Any second now. Watch me go. That’s it.

Really this time. I mean it.

*sigh*

Is it forty days and forty nights yet?

Pretty damned close. We’ve just set records for all-time wettest march here in sunny northern california and I’m wondering, here on this april fool’s day, if we’re getting the same sort of april. Because looking out the window I’m not seeing my sunny april weather. I’m not even thinking about taking the top off my jeep, which I usually start doing around this date.

It’s been grim and wet and depressing. people are looking pale and stressed and cold. We’re a delicate bunch, us californians, we need our sun and don’t manage well when the temp stays under sixty degrees for long.

I need sun. I need heat. I need to see a sky that’s another color than gray. I’m ready. C’mon, mutha-natcha, lay a little of ‘yer sunshine on me. Help a brutha out.

---

I’m feeling way more human than I have in a week and a half. I think I didn’t realize how sick I really was, I kept thinking I was just worn out. But I was worn out after not really doing anything. I wasn’t getting anything done at work, really, I wasn’t even feeling like writing, I was passing out on the couch soon as I turned the teevee on. I couldn’t drink because that hit me like a brick and knocked me down, one drink and gone.

Just Tired, I kept thinking, but it wasn’t that. It was my body tryin’ to say, shut the fuck down, stop fighting, rest. But you know me, I’m dumb as a fuckin’ rock, I Never. Fucking. Listen.

I’m not 100% yet. I know that. I’m five days in to a week-long course of anti-biotics and my doc said he expects to switch me to some other med on monday when I go back, to make sure we nail the secondary infections. But this is the first saturday in three weeks when I’ve felt like getting up and going out rather than just wanting to spend the entire day layin’ around like jabba the fuckin’ hut.

Not to put Jabba down, of course, I mean, if I had a floating yacht and a young carrie fisher in a chain-mail bikini, that’s be ok. But still, it’s nice to be thinking about what I feel like doing today rather than just wanting to crawl in a dark hole and brood.

Now, if the sun would just come out, we’d have something here. I guess I should go get my motorcycle outta mothballs, I haven’t been on it in two months, and it’s lookin’ lonely. I could use some open road, wide-open-throttle time.

A quick update – despite what people say, I’m not dead. in fact I’m feeling much better. I think I’ll go for a walk. I Feel Happy!

Thanks to modern medicine (and visions of nubile slave girls), I’m startin’ to feel human again. I took some time off work and did pretty much nothing but watch travel channel and re-runs of House (Ok, and hack on Hiromi’s blog templates a little). I didn’t even really read much ’cause I finished that Chris Moore book a few days ago (Review to come but in short, it rules).

It’s been a long time since I’ve been sick like this, and I’m remembering now why people say just give the fuck into it and rest. I’m not so good as giving in, it turns out.

I wanna jump but I’m afraid I’ll fall
I wanna holler but the joint’s too small
Young man rhythm’s got a hold of me too
I got the rockin’ pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu

Well, I finally listened after several people said go to the doctor you stupid bastard. And you know, you people love me more than I love myself, it’s true. Why won’t I listen?

Anyway, the diagnosis is that I have Walkin’ Pneumonia.

That’s as opposed to the on all fours barking like a dog kind, or the on my back with my legs in the air like a dead bug kind. So I guess that’s ok.

Doctor-man says that I’ve likely had this for like, a month or six weeks. Which explains why I’ve been feelin’ like sandy-assfuck without a kiss for the last three weeks. I only noticed it when it decided to move to also being some bronchitis with a side of sinus infection.

But now I have giant horse pills, an order to stay in bed for a couple days and be waited on by nubile slaves, and a chest x-ray with my nipple rings showing clearly as great big white circles. So I’ll be heading off to bed and doing my very best to do not a fuckin’ thing for at least two days.

(ok I made up the part about the nubile slave girls, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have them or that they would not make me better just that much faster)

I keep having these ideas for things to write about – a couple good memes goin’ around, some more on the desire to get inked (two new ideas in the last week), a book I finished that I wanna review, and then some ideas for fiction that are starting to come together.

I want to write a review of the new HBO show (Big Love), I wanna talk about how much I love 24, about how happy I am that Amazing Race looks like it’s old self again.

But my god am I having a high-interrupt week. I have a stack of stuff I need to take care of, emails I need to answer, a web project I can’t seem to make headway on for work and another for myself (a skull ring web page; I have a domain and everything but I’ve spent maybe 20 minutes on it in the last month).

I hate it because if I don’t get the ideas down when they happen, they tend to slip away.

I don’t even have the attention span to make this a good rant. and that should tell you the week I’m havin’.