...Well, that does almost kind of help, actually, I opened this up to start a long whinging rant about how the Girlybits TMI Worries seem to include a side order of "is it my hormones or do I really have this much depressing emo how-long-ago-were-the-Eighties-dammit I am too old and my life never started CRAP in my iTunes library", and Gareth-that-was-Gaius kindly tried to cheer me up by Rickrolling me. Unfortunately now I'm back to sifting through the emo crap.
State of the Girlybits is as yet unresolved, although it certainly feels as if they're still plotting some greater mischief. Problem is it's usually hard for me to tell what is just "...Oh, right, the calendar says it's probably a bad day to be that close to a ledge, is what's going on with that", and what's the underlying Life Suckage Issues that are actually something justifiable to be depressed about. (Basically I have been having a continuous midlife crisis since roughly puberty. I was born so old I never did go through that phase where you're too naive to envision the consequences of getting wasted enough you might end up having to chew your own leg off to get away from whatever you shagged last night...) So I'm sort of at a point where I'm thinking things like, "So, say it was ZOMG CANCER, is it necessarily as if you were doing anything with that life of yours anyway...?"
And yes, this is rather late-night maudlin and TL,DR, but considering how much of the problems with my life stem from a general tendency to clam up just when I should be screaming for help, I'll leave it out there if only to make myself have to own up to the fact that There Are Things Wrong That I Need To (Be Made To) Talk About. So, um, yeah. Not necessarily off to stick my head in the oven or go find something to shag that I'd have to chew my leg off to get away from in the morning, not that I would even have the first idea where to start with that, but distinctly not in a place that I'm particularly happy with. And for once going to mention it, dammit.
Also, if I'm still alive for it by September, I'd probably feel a lot better in the short-term if I could find a damn beta for the
tw_bigbang story. :)
State of the Girlybits is as yet unresolved, although it certainly feels as if they're still plotting some greater mischief. Problem is it's usually hard for me to tell what is just "...Oh, right, the calendar says it's probably a bad day to be that close to a ledge, is what's going on with that", and what's the underlying Life Suckage Issues that are actually something justifiable to be depressed about. (Basically I have been having a continuous midlife crisis since roughly puberty. I was born so old I never did go through that phase where you're too naive to envision the consequences of getting wasted enough you might end up having to chew your own leg off to get away from whatever you shagged last night...) So I'm sort of at a point where I'm thinking things like, "So, say it was ZOMG CANCER, is it necessarily as if you were doing anything with that life of yours anyway...?"
And yes, this is rather late-night maudlin and TL,DR, but considering how much of the problems with my life stem from a general tendency to clam up just when I should be screaming for help, I'll leave it out there if only to make myself have to own up to the fact that There Are Things Wrong That I Need To (Be Made To) Talk About. So, um, yeah. Not necessarily off to stick my head in the oven or go find something to shag that I'd have to chew my leg off to get away from in the morning, not that I would even have the first idea where to start with that, but distinctly not in a place that I'm particularly happy with. And for once going to mention it, dammit.
Also, if I'm still alive for it by September, I'd probably feel a lot better in the short-term if I could find a damn beta for the
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