seventhe: (Cock: GIANT COCKFISTING)

Reasoning:

  1. I make amazing money for my age and I should take advantage of that
  2. I am in a good position: owning a house already, partnered but legally single, no dependents
  3. I need my goddamn health insurance so cannot quit
  4. I don't completely loathe what I do yet (it's more like a bipolar disorder relationship).

Plan:

  • live well but frugally for the next 15 years
  • enjoy the shit out of the next 15 years well but responsibly
  • take good care of self and health
  • pay off house
  • save well
  • retire at 50.
  • become actual hermit
  • spend rest of life writing and giving the world the middle finger
  • become millionaire
  • replace body with wheels
  • profit

15 more years at my job gives me the new plant I want - covers everything from engineering to actually flipping the switch to development projects - as well as turnover to build a dynasty (not that I am arrogant BUT I AM but really it's to protect the years invested in the place): I'd literally hit the peak of my career then leave. and, if I work it right, lots of company buffing of my 401k.

50 will be a bit old on my poor broken body, but it's still an age you can do most things: travel, hobbies, open a bar with your friends, etc

The counter-thought is "take your break now" but I'm not in any kind of position health-wise to do so: need insurance, so need (a) job; this job has good/decent insurance; not good at traveling right now; too much house debt to really call off the paychecks. Trust me, it's tempting to toss everything and run to the woods, but it isn't a good place.

But working towards something makes the working seem slightly more palatable

1^0 edit I FORGOT TO MENTION what I want to do with my millions: I want to be a patron of the arts and sciences.

One of the things that sticks out in my memory from my Germany trip - touring an old palace - it's so weird that this was significant - but I was doing the headphones tour of Queen Sophie's palace and there was so much discussion about how royalty and the well-off were patrons -- of arts, sciences, literature, voyages, anything they wanted. It is this weird mindset - and ok I know that historical context etc life was NOT A MAGICAL BETTER BACK IN THAT CENTURY - but in our evolution to what we are now we have really and truly lost that spirit? Rich people don't go and support artists they personally think are cool anymore, or host salons for neat artists to get together, or sponsor someone to write a symphony or a novel, and --- there's something about that concept that really appeals to me.

So after my job and my novels and my millions, I plan to become a patron of the arts and sciences. If you can wait 15 years, you all get first dibs.

2^0 edit im not even drunk guys, seriously

seventhe: (Life: stress out and die)
"This is my I-don't-care face."
"...that's your normal face."


Today's chore log:
- two rounds of dishes
- cleaned kitchen
- emptied fridge
- washed spots on floor and walls
- spot steam-cleaned carpet
- rearranged living rm on trial basis
- sorted mail & bills
- arranged my prescription refills
- two loads of laundry
- sorted random clothes
- one round of closet purge
- litter boxes
- wrote 1200 words

Helper evidence here.

No, I have no idea where it came from either. May it stick around all week.
seventhe: (Joie)
It isn't even really happiness, because "happy" implies a more extreme-type feeling, the kind that takes energy. Feeling content doesn't need any of my energy; it's a quiet, fulfilling, much simpler state of being.

I'm sitting in my papasan under a blanket, with a woodwick candle scented like fall leaves that sounds like a crackling fire, idly alternating between reading, thinking, and just being, watching an army of eight goldfinches (one of whom is the most puffed-up fatty bird I've ever seen) having a gang party at my feeders against the gorgeous backdrop of grey fall skies and the autumn colors of my woods. I don't have any words to describe this simple, pleasant, fulfilled type feeling... Other than: I am content.

I can sit here for hours and watch my leaves fall one by one and it feels right.

I've started calling my weekends "days of worship." I'm sure it's quite heathen of me because I don't mean church or religion; but worship of my home, my surroundings, my self. This time I take to myself to care for my house, my mind, my stress levels and pain levels and mental state -- is there anything more precious to a Taurus than 'worship' of the life they've built?

My darling enormous maine coon has just climbed back into my lap. Porter and I will sit here in blankets and contemplate the dark cloudy sky and count the birds and the leaves that fall. I'm content.
seventhe: (Cats: I LIKE THEM)
You may have noticed I seem to have vanished off of the map. This is because my new job is absolutely batshit fucking crazy. I think I've only posted like three times in all of July?, and I send far fewer text- and email- based daily communications than I used to (it's funny how long my phone battery lasts when I am not using it!), and this is because my new job is absolutely batshit fucking crazy.

There are days my employees catch me before I have even entered the building; I swear to god they're timing their smoke breaks since they know I pull in at 7:55am every morning, because they flag me down walking from my car to the door with whatever the day's update is. There are days I don't log into my own computer until 10; there are days I don't start my own actual work day until 4-5pm when everything else has calmed down. There have been evenings I am there until 6, 6:30 pm; there are nights I bring work home (tonight being one of them). There have been absolutely zero days where I leave at 4:45pm like I am supposed to. I use my mobile so much for work the company has started subsidizing it.

Did I mention things are absolutely batshit fucking crazy?

I have no time for anything anymore. I'm basically now working the same 10-hr days I was working beforehand, with added bonus 8+ days on Fridays. Becky is joking that I didn't actually get a raise, I'm now just being paid for epic overtime; it's actually truer than it should be.

It's a common joke among the management team (who I think I shall nickname after summons, because it pleases me to think of us all as a team of eidolons), because on those days where shit has been flying off the fan at intense and disastrous rates and we don't sit down at our own desks actually alone until 4:30pm it's actually nice to stay until 6:00pm because we don't know what's going to happen tomorrow but it's quiet now and we can focus. Ditto on Fridays; Fridays have become a blessing, the one day a week I know I will be minimally interrupted and can make a reasonable attempt to churn through all of the work I meant to do during the week and was pulled away from: 40 hours in one 8hr day, that's doable, right. Siren (the manager focused more on products and projects) and I mourn the loss of our ability to tell everyone to fuck off (Siren is also new to her position) and complain about the intense upkeep we need to do to stay targeted on our underperformers; Golem (the manager focused more on mechanical aspects) and I are already planning late-night office pizza parties as we are forced into a software update we weren't consulted on and weren't a part of but are still expected to launch into our maintenance program by some ridiculously unwieldy date like September. I am lucky to be surrounded by amazing people who understand and desperately want me to succeed (although in Golem's case I think that is mainly so that he can stop working on Saturdays); I adore them immensely, even as we all joke about using and abusing each other. (I, as Operations, am the cross-sectional point where Siren's research & development & troubleshooting projects intersect with Golem's preventative maintenance & plant improvement work; this makes my life difficult but also means that they both have to be nice to me, ha.)

I am overwhelmingly, bizzarely, incomprehensibly in love with this job.

This is what I was made for. I have already, after a month-and-change: dealt with a problem underperforming employee in a way that promises to either make progress or GTFO after basically 20 years of experience and 5+ years of not seeming able to do the job; sent nastygram after nastygram until the two worst communicators in the plant specifically come to me to let me know what they are doing before anyone else even knows; solved scheduling mishaps; yelled at the EPA; called our safety director's work stupid and dumb in the same meeting (although that was inadvertant and accidental), to her face (which I realize is tactless; here's the fucks I give, because incompetence is the match that lights this stubborn Taurean fire); defended my own employees against attacks and slander and bullshit they shouldn't have to put up with from other people and been specifically thanked for doing so; learnt how to buy things within our online file management system and promptly spent $300 on hard hats to play with; improved the attitude of a supervisor who has been a negative vendetta-hound for 8+ years; redone the old lab where I used to sit into what will be usable office cubicles (although I can't take full credit for that one); made my boss say the phrase "you are right, he/she/that is fucking clueless" half a dozen times; made my boss either grin maniacally or put his head down when I walk into his office; made my boss regret his decision to hire me probably four hundred times; made people actually run from me; made changes, made improvements, made an impact. I've revamped systems and redone OPSs and made demands of our alarm management system that no one has made until now. I've let out my inner asshole, my inner control freak, my inner perfectionist: they're all running around rampant making decisions and giving orders and frightening bystanders everywhere. I'm not sorry; I was not hired into this position to be good and play along.

I am absolutely loving it which is good because right now this is my only life, my highest priority, the shit I eat and breathe.

It will not last forever. I will not last forever in this: canceling PT because I have to stay until 6 because there's work due tomorrow, not scheduling doctor appointments because I don't have the time, not working on my thesis because fuck more work; this level of intensity will eventually fade as all of the plant becomes used to this position's existence and my presence. I will burn out, the initial activation energy will be met, the workload will become manageable even if I have to light half of it on fire. It's not forever.

But right now all things Sev are absolutely batshit fucking crazy, so please forgive me if I take a while to reply to an email or respond to a comment or do anything I have told you I would do because I am running on fumes and adrenaline and caffeine and stubbornness at the mo.



HOW ARE YOU ALL
seventhe: (FFEX: In the shadows)
  • Had my last surgical injection on Thursday. Turns out that it's pretty easy to forget that just because these things aren't hella invasive does not mean they aren't a big deal; I spent Friday attempting to do a bunch of physical-labor-type stuff around the house and was reminded that my system is still full of anesthetic aftermath at about ~3:00 when I seriously just... burnt out, like my body crapped out, like literally just stopped functioning, like someone had repeatedly punched me in the everything and left me for dead. Whooooooops. Lost a lot of the weekend recovering from that too; turns out overproductivity results in less productivity when your body sucks like mine does!

  • greeted with a 3-hour 3-meeting back-to-back boredom extravaganza this morning at work (boredom being relative; two of the three meetings were informative and the third gave me a platform to complain loudly about stuff so it wasn't really a waste of time; just not the way I like starting off my Mondays)

  • tired

  • Finishing up FFIV for [community profile] moogle_university; have been reminded why this game is special to me. It isn't that it's the "best" of the FFs or the best game I've ever played; it's just the correct combination of [nostalgia points] + [characters and plot points highly relevant to my interests] and will probably always be my favorite, which just proves that I have horrible taste in life.

  • HAS ANYONE / EVERYONE STARTED THEIR DOINK FIC/ART/WORK??? Every year I swear I'm going to blog more about the exchange and then every year I'm like, I'm just too tired. I have so many thoughts and they are all living in giant apartment complexes on the corner of "You can't talk about that in public Sev" and "no1currr" and so I look at that and go back to my fic and monitoring of our inbox and sigh, heavily.

  • I'm finally living in my own room...? I have my new carpet and the paint job is done and it's set up in a way that makes me feel happy and comfortable, and ... I like it? I've felt and been transient for years and I'm not sure I have words for how comfortable and safe I feel finally putting down roots in a place that is mine, that I own, where I am the one who gets to have final say on everything, where I have my own space and my own dominion and all things I've needed for years but haven't prioritized, where I can do whatever the hell I want. Including paint my study leaffire-orange and yellow, because I am dumb. Not having to answer to anyone is apparently the space where I am the most comfortable with myself; it is also a completely appropriate adult goal. don't question me.

  • where am I

  • oh yeah lunch

interim

Mar. 25th, 2013 07:53 am
seventhe: (Ondore: he lies)
It's that weird overlap time where you are moving and you know you are moving, but you haven't yet; the place you're in now becomes less home by default, just a feeling, but there's nothing yet to take its place. For a Taurus like me - grounded by the places I feel safe - this is a very strange and uncomfortable feeling.

I'm working on making the place feel like my home in my head though, so that once I get there, I will feel settled. Took the cats and had a sleepover party on Friday (Marzy had an absolute blast; Porter was pretty terrified and spent the first ~15min hiding under the laundry tub, but eventually warmed up to it. Rydia, showing once again that she truly is my familiar, somehow felt out which room was the master bedroom and spent most of her time lounging under my window); spent all yesterday afternoon putting up a first coat of paint in Becky's room. Going to spend time this week taking vacation from work to paint the other bedrooms, tear up the master BD carpet, fix a leaky sink etc.

I'm calling it the Feymarch. Although it also goes by Castle Gaylord (which is actually a more fitting name when you realize what an absolute dork I am for interior decorating. My dining room is going to be straight out of fucking Rivendell, you may all defriend me immediately.), but the Feymarch is fitting for a place that feels like it's out in the middle of nowhere.

Hard to believe I'm going to be living there in less than a month. When in the absolute fuck am I going to pack?

My moods are still, honestly, all over the goddamn place. I'm excited about it, but then I reach a point where I'm preemptively overwhelmed and just don't want to think about it - and then I start bouncing off all the other angles: I want credit for doing something this awesome all by myself; I don't want anybody else knowing or talking or helping because this is mine; I want to have a million parties; I want to be there alone forever. I swear my depression-brain is a manic depressive these days. I could deal with it when it was straightforward depression brain. I seriously don't know how to operate with manic depressive headbees.

But it's mine. If you're an address person and you'd like my new address, fire me an email -- I'd love to get some cute moving-in mail. :D
seventhe: (Internet: I know exactly what it is)
good lord: I'm not sure I've ever found anything that breaks my mind down more than this: http://www.intp.org/intprofile.html it's so true >.>

http://www.mypersonality.info/ if you want to know what you are
seventhe: (FFEX: Doink!)
You know, I don't REALLY believe in astrology. Really. But at times like this - when everyone around me is having a shit time of it, and I mean a really shit time; when lives and relationships and emotions and loves and friends are all down, depressed, wrecked and dying -- when it's like everyone I know has something awful happen on almost the same day, within the same week --- look, I start to get fuckin' suspicious of the stars and the planets and the damn moon moving through Scorpio.

♥ to everyone I know.

I am posting this from my new place. I have internets. I still lack half my stuff. Priorities, I has them?
seventhe: (Anima: creepy)
Back from Pittsburgh. Jim and Mary's house is awesome! I am jealous of their yard. More on that later.

Football tonight: the Browns are terrible. But Buffalo is 3-0!

In other news: might shoot people. One of the Problems with Tauruses is that we are so slow to anger that many people forget we have a temper at all. I try really hard to be really nice. When that fails... well. It is not pretty.

Anyway. Off to practice for Snafubar tomorrow night! I have to learn two songs in like... AN HOUR!
seventhe: (Rydia: power)
I got flowers today from my parents, which is sweet beyond anything. It's a really beautiful spring mix, all lilies and sunflowers and daisies and a few little roses; and they've been sitting in the study, filling up the room with (sorely needed) bright colors and just a hint of fresh sweet flower scent that I catch every now and then when I turn a page.

It's been a fantastic day here: stormy. I love the rain, like any good Taurus: it brings life and peace to us poor dry earth signs, especially those of us who are spring-born and need the refreshment. It's been actually enjoyable to sit and read through notes with rain and wind and thunder pounding the window at my back. I love storms, and today's was a good one.

I've made it through reviewing the notes for the Thermo class, the final I am sure to take on time. I am not sure what more I can do with the concepts; I find it hard to learn a concept from a single source, but for a class where the "notes" (I use quotes, for they are not exactly organized, nor clear) are the only reference material we have and every textbook I check lacks any relevant information... I guess I can only do what I can do. Memorizing is next, sadly - I hate memorizing. (I thought about sending an email asking how they justified not allowing any of us a notecard, but with all of the confusion over my finals anyway, I decided it not a very good idea.) If it goes well and I can answer the homework problems with ease, I'll probably move on to the other final -- if I could take these on time next week and just be done with everything. If.

I have near two hours left until I turn 26 (by day; by hour, I have until tomorrow afternoon). That's a sort of sobering thought - did I think I was going to be sitting home, alone, with a stack of notes scribbled on blue paper in multicoloured ink, when I turned 26? Oh well. Rarely, if ever, have I been able to predict myself at any age. And it's not really a bad thing, if one thinks about it in the right way.

(The stories and art so far are outstanding. I'm so touched and honored (and totally guilty for not observing other people's birthdays! SINGLE TEAR OF ABSOLUTE REMORSE); you all have no idea. (It's like I've inadvertantly had created for me the internet's best source ever of Seifer/Irvine porn, along with magic-meta and FFVII-crack fic. I am fantastic.))

I've had a lot of strange thoughts on life tonight, but I have an odd feeling that it's just the other half of my brain, sick of polymer thermodynamics, acting up again.

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