seventhe: (Burger King: In the butt!)

so mike and i are going to pittsburgh this weekend for my brother's birthday. i had a full list of things to get ready for today - get things settled for the catsitter, clean the kitchen, do some laundry so i have something to wear, pack, rig up my bike for the weekend, sort out my medications (this takes about a half hour every week to load them into my "morning" and "evening" weekly pill boxes, ugh) ... there was a lot.

the thing is, i have been tired as actual fuck this week. because i end up overcharging my energy credit card during the week, i usually try to save up and pay it off on weekends, meaning i need lots of sleep, relaxing, and a good amount of alone solo-time. because of the recent messes (previous posts), i haven't had a free weekend to myself since the middle of june. this means not only am i exhausted, and carrying around the static background-noise of someone who hasn't been able to ground herself and clear everything out*, but of course the house is a mess and i am behind on everything.

(*i am also suffering from not having my Vicodin at the moment; those four hours of reduced pain help me clear out the static noise and ground myself like fuck, but because i have to go back to formal pain management (which is a process) i don't even have that tool in the toolbox right now.)

so anyway, i am tired and pretty strung out at the moment, but it's jim's birthday and mary wants us to be a surprise, so we'll be a surprise :)

so last night, i come home tired from the pain-load on my circuits. i take two tramadol and a glass of wine, which i'm sure my liver is mad cool about but it helps shut the pain up when i don't have opiates. i crash on the couch for a bit, with cats, and then slowly start hitting my chores. i make a pact with myself because i'm watching Chopped on tv, so every commercial break i get up and do a thing. this continues on, laundry and litterboxes and drugs, via Chopped and Beat Bobby Flay commercials (look, i love BBF, it's all fancy cooking and trash talk, that's my jam), until the second wind wears off and i get tired. well, i say, i'll get up early in the morning to finish it.

the alarm goes off at 5:00.

  1. i am having a dream where a group of people (no one i know, which is surprising for my dreams) and i are hosting some kind of event luncheon thing with food and wine for fucking Donald Trump and some Republicans, I guess trying to talk some sense into them or come to an accord or argue with them or spy on them or, i don't know, it seems reasonable in the dream. and i'm some kind of power hostess but i'm focusing mainly on the cooking (thanks, fucking Chopped and Beat Bobby Flay), and trying to make points and break up fights while making sure everyone has food?, i mean at one point i fucking leave an argument to go make more fried cornmeal balls (hushpuppies i guess)???? so like: i'm already pretty discombobulated.
  2. i finally manage to get out of bed, after some snooze buttons, at about 6:00
  3. i head downstairs, turn on the keurig, head to the basement. pull the dry laundry out of the dryer and put the wet laundry in the dryer. yes, i went to bed with laundry in the washing machine. it was literally only there for like 5 hours, it didn't smell or anything
  4. i get my coffee and sit down on the floor to fold the laundry but i'm tired as fuck and end up playing out my stamina in FFBE
  5. i fold the laundry, while finishing FFBE/FFRK stamina, with Iggy and Potato helping. this literally hakes maybe an hour? i'm so tired i feel heavy, like i'm moving slowly because everything weighs 500lb, including my thoughts
  6. i finish the laundry and go to get the cats ready. write a note, set out food, fill their dishes, give them wet food breakfast, get everything set
  7. my brain finally processes that i had a dream about catering donald fucking trump, where i made him bruschetta and fucking hushpuppies rather than punching him in the face, maybe with a knife. i spend a good 15 minutes severely disappointed in my subconscious
  8. it's starting to get close to when i should be leaving for work, and i'm starting to unravel a bit here. i go upstairs to pack. weirdly i fucking gained back 9lb in the month of july, i do not know how, so i'm also trying on everything i want to pack to make sure it fits. a lot of random shit just goes in the bag
  9. i spend a half hour sorting out my pills. i have 20 empty pill bottles and at least 2-3 refills of each type, which makes everything more confusing than it should be. i do not know how it happened and my brain really wants to know rather than focus on getting each med in its appropriate pill box. eventually the boxes are full
  10. i scramble to get ready for work, throw some shit on, the jeans are actually still damp but honestly i ignore it bc they stretch out better that way after a wash. hair goes up in a braid, fucks not given
  11. head down to start loading the car. checking my important list on my phone. get jim's gift in the back seat, bike pump in the trunk because once it had a spider on it. look around the garage, and i don't have my bike rack
  12. it must be in fucking mike's garage
  13. i legit spend 20 minutes attempting to cram my goddamn bicycle into the back seat of my fucking honda civic
  14. i mean, maybe if i take the front wheel off
  15. the front wheel isn't coming off, the brakes are in the way
  16. how do i undo brakes
  17. maybe if i wedge it this way
  18. fuck it we're gonna have to stop by on the way out and get my bike
  19. head back in to wash the oil and smudge off of my hands. i am sweaty, and extremely cranky at this point
  20. hands clean, everything else in the car, head out to get in and go to work
  21. the bike rack is hanging from one of my ceiling hooks
  22. someone was helpful and "put it away"
  23. at this point i am decidedly sweaty, cranky, and obscenely late for work. there's a constant stream of "fuck you, fuck this, fucking fuck, fuck this shit, fuck everything" coming out of my mouth like i'm reciting the world's worst rosary
  24. while taking the rack down the straps get caught in my hair and pull half of it out. everything is terrible
  25. the rack is on the fucking car. the bike is on the fucking rack. go wash my hands again.
  26. get into the car. what's on my seat? oh, it's the post it note of my to-do list. let's check it. i forgot to leave the key for the fucking catsitter
  27. fuck you, fuck this, fucking fuck, fuck this shit, fuck everything
  28. the key is safely in a plastic bag in its place
  29. i am stopping at starbucks if it fucking kills me
  30. literally i do not care if i am fired for being late i'm getting a goddamn starbucks

...

  1. get to work. no one is here. half the group is traveling or on vacation, and the other half is off for 9/80 fridays. all my brain can come up with is "9/11" and i sit staring into space for 20 mins trying to figure out what the 9/11 schedule is
  2. it is surreal
  3. i don't know what i'm doing

so now i really just want a nap. and another starbucks

seventhe: (chocobo: hey bb)
i've been doing research for a while but ever since this idea grabbed me last weekend i've been doing RESEARCH, and i mean research not like once i did research for a paper, but research both as "someone who once for many years worked in the research field and whose livelihood depended on researching and finding things and drawing them together" and "wow something i am interested in that isn't being hit in the head by a pipe wrench". this is a new obsession - probably because it's a novelty, so there's a chance it won't last - but at least i am diving in with a bit of (if limited by my own shitfaced depressive reality) enthusiasm.

i realize this really isn't the approach anyone wants -- approaching a religion, or spirituality, should be taken seriously; yet I'm finding that I'm That Guy who's gonna walk into a church and be all like, "so I'm gonna take a couple weeks and kinda fuck around with Jesus, dat cool?" I hope I mean no disrespect but I automatically know I am disrespectful as fuck - look, I was born a Dragomire, and we are utterly irreverent shits; we are the team that would push the red button just because we were told not to. So I am trying to approach this in a sense of -- healthy fun, maybe?; I want to give it its due, but I also need to have some dialogue before we jump in the sack, right?

anyway the way this entry is going is that to say, i've actually found some good words in this search to describe what Marzy was in my life and why this particular hole is so fuckin painful, upsetting, uprooted - if i view my life through this particular lens, it's pretty obvious what Marzy was, and even in a scientific / electromagnetic sense, it makes perfect sense.

Marzy was my grounding line. He was my grounding ritual; he was my neutral to ground; he was the thing which, after a long day of static and bullshit and awful, i could take and touch and hold and feel, and he would take all of the negativity and all of the buildup and just wash it away, down into the ground, until all that was left was belly and purr and sweet, sweet neutrality.

Marzy was my ground point and no wonder with him gone I've felt imbalanced and unstable.


fuck man. i was saying it was silly to be so upset about a cat, but in this context - where he was part of a physical ritual bringing me back to myself - i've lost my goddamn grounding wire, i think i have an excuse for building up a fuckin charge over here.

you know...

Mar. 7th, 2016 09:25 pm
seventhe: (SAZH)
Sometimes there are days where I wonder how people like, you know, live? I worked my normal day today, then went to the grocery, then came home and crashed for a bit, then got up and made a soup. And I am so fucking tired and my legs hurt and my back hurts and my brain is ready to shut off and I can't get up from this couch and I am dead and like. There are people who can do this AND go to the gym AND do laundry AND dishes after they cook AND do something brainful like pay bills or some other reasonable thing and ?????? How do people do this? What is the terrible secret? Have you all sold children or kidneys to some arcane god/dess to get these powers and if so, where do I sign up


It's hard sometimes for me to remember I have a chronic illness. Mainly because I don't want to have a chronic illness.


the soup is really fucking good tho
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: (SAZH)

who doesn't like lists. if you don't like lists you are at the wrong journal.

I've made a "Words and Workouts" pact with [personal profile] justira. Our goals are low, but meaningful: 1500 words per week; 3 workouts per week. We will have lovely charts to share. I mean to stick to this - both of them. Here are some thoughts...

  • So, I am in fact wordsing again. The shameful part is that it's Harry Potter fic. HP is like my shame comfort fandom - when I am ill, I browse AO3 and look for fics with high kudos and pairings that I like, no fucking regrets. I was ill for like 93% of last week which meant I read a lot of trash. I am now writing HP trash. I don't even give a fuck. It's words and I will have fun, even if HP fandom is beyond the grave.
  • If I can get moving again with the writing, I want to work on original stuff this year, but I also want to get back to dabbling in fandom - prompt memes and the like. I miss the sense of connection that comes with fannish writing. Hang me.
  • Right now my workout goals are more about consistency than actual workouts. I want to focus on swimming first - that's my best and favorite sport, and why not do a workout that I actually enjoy? After that, I'd like to go back to yoga, then running and biking. Of course there's weightlifting and punching the bag in there too - I'll make a plan once I've shown that I can stick to 3x/wk for more than, say, one wk.

My other lofty goals for 2016 include:

  • Start fucking going to bed on time. I want to get up earlier in the mornings but (a) I am so lazy and (b) I tend to sulk about my life late at night and stay up until, say, 01:00 in a snit of because I can which doesn't work so well when you want to get up at 06:00. If I could get my arse in bed between 22:00-23:00 I could get up earlier and either get to work earlier (to leave earlier) or have some time in the morning just for me. Either one sounds better than the usual snooze-button-festival party-of-one I have going on in my bed for an hour and a half every goddamn morning. That's such a waste of time.
  • Half hour of chores every night. This is hard to keep up with because of fibro - some days I come home and crawl into bed and get up 4 hours later to eat a pop tart before returning to blankets. However, this leads to having to spend all of a weekend day catching up on chores that have slipped (dishes, laundry, mail/bills) which is equally exhausting. 30mins is reasonable on all but the worst evenings and should allow me to have more relaxing time on weekends, which is good for fibro.
  • Learn to chill about work. I will never not be platonically married to this place or this job, but getting stressed leads to high interaction costs leads to overstimulation leads to me being too exhausted to fucking blink. I'm already working to set this year up as an improvement - more support, more help, less projects overall - so I need to keep to that course.
  • Empty my life. I have too much going on, and too many things taking up space (physical and mental). It's time to clean it out.

More specific goals will have to wait until I have brains to deal with them.

seventhe: (Cats: I LIKE THEM)
Turns out a break really was exactly what I needed.

It sure wasn't long enough; 3 days off work does not cure four months two years of incredible ongoing stress with no break at all. But it does help. Small recovery is better than no recovery.

I actually did not do a whole lot of the things that were on my list. I spent a lot of time with my brain just - off. I slept a lot - a lot. I wasted a lot of time. I re-read books.

It was oddly refreshing.

I'm not going to pretend I'm anywhere near "OK". I realize that I'm struggling here. But it was good to take some time to put a little pause into everything, to spend some time focused on me / focused on my home / focused on doing absolutely fuck nothing.
seventhe: (Ashe: Good to be queen)
If I had a dollar for every post I thought about starting out saying "I'm not dead (yet)", I wouldn't have to work anymore.

I really don't know what else I have to say other than a ripping chain of profanity so long it would make string theory look pedestrian and quaint.

I'm tired. I'm on a new drug (anxiety drug scribed for insomnia - cross your fingers) and I have a new doctor (rheumatologist), increasing my army of medical specialists to a whopping 5. I hate Midgar and its humid soggy heat. I start my new job on Monday. I don't get a "break" for three weeks. My car needs an oil change, I need a haircut, my lawn needs mowed. My life needs a live-in secretary/google/organizer. I am not going to finish FFVI this month, although I am actually trying my damndest to get close.

I am. so tired.

I think I need a vacation
seventhe: (SAZH)
A quick update while I've got a few seconds'-worth of a breather here at lunch.

(edit) QUICK UPDATE ACTUAL LOL i have managed to turn "quick lunch update" into gigantic emotional tl;dr diatribe god I am the best/worst blogger in the history of the internet

general
I've been excessively shitty lately. My workload - not just job but life, because apparently the amount of general bullshittery around me increases directly proportional to my stress load due to specific work bullshittery - has been godawful. I actually started typing out a list of the many things I'm trying to handle right now but deleted it because a) it was depressing me and b) it sounded like I'm playing Stress And Workload I Am The Busiest Ever Olympics which isn't ever really what I want to sound like. Suffice to say I was up to item 12 before I stopped, and that hadn't even covered work; if you'd like to play Olympics with me I guarantee I will win, which actually means I lose, I think.

additional rambles that got long )
seventhe: (Rydia: reversed)
I
think
I
just
bought
a
house


I wasn't even shopping. Looked on a whim, fell for the world's most beautiful house, decided to pretend to impulse buy it and suddenly got serious. I've found my dream house. After a bunch of back and forth, Seller accepted my offer this evening.

Holy fucking shit.
seventhe: (SAZH)
I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYBODY SAYS

SAZH IS THE GREATEST CHARACTER IN FFXIII

COLD BLOOD KICKS ASS

RANDOM INSTANT CHAIN SAVES MY ASS ALL THE TIME

FUCK THE HATERS SOMEODY GIVE ME A SAZH ICON PLEASE







This post brought to you by the gigantic fucking asshole of an Ochu mother fucker at the end of Titan's Trials that had me screaming alone in my apartment at 12:00 midnight
seventhe: (Sorceresses)
For the record, I'm trying to post more; I've got a lot on my mind recently, and I've got a journal for a reason. I'm also trying to reply to comments more, which is something I'm bad at - I mostly reply via phone-Gmail*, at work, and it can be hard to keep up with. But anyway, I'm trying to post more consistently. For fun. And profit.

One of the things that has been dwelling on my mind lately is ... Well. I work hard. For the past 5 years I've been working doubletime, putting in 40 hours a week of a job and then grad school on top of that, plus I fill up the rest of my time with shit: running, races, taking care of people, bands, practices, exchanges, writing, commitments, hobbies, cons, cosplay, and an exhausting social life. As much as I joke about being a lazy fuck I'm not really sure I know how to 'take it easy' for more than a day or two; I just do stuff, I tend to do stuff, and I end up being busy by default. My job is both hard and a lot of work (they aren't always the same thing), and grad school is the same -- and even if the other things aren't 'work' and aren't 'necessary', they're still commitments, and they aren't 'taking it easy' either.

Nobody should be surprised to hear that I still feel burnt out, this year; my constant chorus of I'm exhausted should be familiar by now. I've been burning this candle at every available end for years. But I have this awful dichotomy warring in my brain about "deserving a break", and it's getting confusing.

What do you have to do to 'deserve' a break? I'll look at my shit some days and be like, gurl, all you did today was work your usual 11 hour day. You don't deserve a night off. You still have to run, and then cook, and then clean up at least half of it, and fold the laundry. Or I'll look at my week and be like, All you did was work and run and the usual chores. You didn't do anything extraordinary. You don't deserve a break. You still have shit to do! And I'll fill up my hours and my days with that to-do list that doesn't end.

And then on other days I will get to the point where I am like christ in a chevy, I am exhausted and I deserve a break and I am taking one so fuck the world, and I'll do something like drink an entire bottle of wine alone in my apartment while drunk-texting everyone I know and reading horrible fanfiction, or I'll spend an entire day knitting while watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or I'll skip working out for an entire week and just lie on the floor instead. And I don't really feel all that much better or feel relaxed; I feel like a giant waste of space because that's what I was. It's a little better, but it's a useless better. Like I feel like I'm entitled to deliberately spend a day doing things that don't mean shit just to prove that I can, because I can, because I am stubborn and want to waste time like everybody else does and no one can tell me I can't, especially myself.

It's like I don't know how to moderate. It's either all or nothing. And thinking back I actually don't even think it's that bad in reality, but my perception of it is: in my head it feels like all or nothing, on or off. I don't know how to hit a happy medium and realize it; I don't know how to feel like I'm compromising. If it isn't all or nothing, my brain makes it so.

And underneath all of that is the fact that I've been working for basically over 15 years straight now, and yet I still feel like I don't 'deserve' a really big break until I finish my fucking graduate degree.

But I think about all the shit that I want to do - I would like to write some fucking novels; I would like to (re)learn to draw; I would like to take more pictures; I would like to actually travel - and first I go, okay, let's do(u) it and then I go, oh god, more things, when do I get a break?

So that's what's on my mind. I need a better system to deal with both relaxing and getting my shit done. Blah blah blah whine more.


*I'm only moderately content with Gmail's iPhone app. It's decent, but not ideal. And I moderately dislike Apple's/iPhone's default email interface. Any iPhone users who use a different mail app that they adore?
seventhe: (Laguna: god dammit why)
and my first thought is, "Awesome! I'm done with that and now I can replay FFVI!" >.>

This should not be my reaction to beating the most recent FF game.

Final Fantasy XIII is an amazingly awesome game wrapped up in a thick gigantic blanket of garbage disaster bullshit. It's about 1/3 addictively enjoyable, and 2/3 horrible. This doesn't average out to make it an average game. It is simultaneously great and shite. This takes talent!! I actively loved parts of it and thoroughly loathed others. I feel very confused about it.

more thoughts on the ending, that may include spoilers if you care )

Overall, I liked and disliked the game, like I said. I came to really enjoy parts of the battle system, eventually: I love Paradigms and the concept behind them, and it really did make battles strategic at a level I really enjoy and can get into. However, the thing about "if your party leader dies the entire battle is lost?" FULL FUCKING STOP, I HATE THAT, AND I DON'T CARE. IT'S UNFAIR AND STUPID. I don't care if you can "Retry" the battle. I don't care if you're supposed to know and be prepared. Fuck that. It's dumb.

I didn't really understand the story, and I'm not sure I like that I was 'supposed' to be keeping up with the Datalog - that's cheap storytelling, IMO. I loved some of the characters, especially by the end, but I couldn't care enough about the party as a whole to really get invested. And I couldn't keep track of so much of the rest of the cast -- seriously, when I fought Rosch I had to look up who he was and why I should care, and then during the final battle someone said, "Dysley?" and I actually yelled out loud, "DYSLEY? WHO IS DYSLEY?"

I'm not sure I'll make it back to doing the missions - even though the missions were one of the most enjoyable parts of the story since they were just fun smashing time with Fang, Sazh, and some other people - because I'm just not sure I'm invested enough.

But some parts of it were so awesome that I can't just say, like, "Don't play it" -- because it was actually pretty fun. In the middle.

Sigh.

Jun. 22nd, 2012 10:31 pm
seventhe: (Cecil: +100 for COCK)
Today the only talking-to-people I've had to do was over the phone, which has been nice. It was an alright sort of day. There's still too much to do, still too much hanging over my head, too many things on my mind - the weight of responsibility is still tying my neck and shoulders in awful painful knots - but it was a day more-or-less "off".

I took advantage by compromising productive things with fuck-off stuff. I'm still behind on lots of shit, so productivity-wise, I: washed my sheets and duvet, put away a crap ton of old collected laundry, washed dishes, vacuumed, ran errands and got groceries, did a summer/winter swap out of my closet and sorted out three garbage bags worth of things for goodwill, and rearranged the whole 'workout clothes' side of my closet floor. Oh, and cooked, and did a BodyRock workout. I was pretty busy, wow. It's funny how you don't mind the shitty state of your room when you're only in it and awake for like 5 min at a time.

Relaxing-wise, I did an hour or two of leveling in FFXIII, and watched some more Criminal Minds. I swear I did something else fun, but looking at my day, how did I have the time? Hahaha.

Tonight I made a very experimental curry. I really wanted red curry, and I already had a can of coconut milk, but Giant Eagle was out of red curry paste. Sadface! So I tried this "Thai Curry Spicy" sauce thing, because hey, I am too lazy to go to another store and I wanted my curry soon. it ended up pretty good, although it definitely was not red curry, and it was a little runny/saucy (the lack of paste did not help my coconut milk any). I threw in some yellow curry powder, some peanut butter, and a little brown sugar. Flavor was excellent; only problem was it needed to be thicker. Ingredients were awesome, though: chicken and tofu, zucchini, asparagus, peppers and onions and water chestnuts and bamboo shoots.

I like experimental cooking. I like it even better when it turns out awesome.

Now I shall probably go to bed soon, because it turns out that the "day off" I thought I had tomorrow actually isn't really off at all. Greeeeeeeat.
seventhe: (FFEX: Doink!)
I'm always surprised at how many hours there actually are in a day.

I really shouldn't be, because I've experienced this phenomenon once before, when I was still working my full-time long-day 40-hr-week job and also attending a 20-30-hr-week graduate lab class: if you literally spend every spare minute you have doing something, it's a lot of work. (And I mean it. Sometimes I see people posting, "I'm soooo busy~!" but if I've seen you posting 10K in fic in the last week, or reblogging tons of stuff on Tumblr, or otherwise hobbying-- maybe you're busy, but that isn't actually spending every legitimate moment you have on work-like things. I realize this makes me a judgmental ass and I'm sorry.)

But really, I'm still continually surprised at how much you can actually work in one day. Because I have basically spent every free hour I have had in the last 7 days helping to basically remodel a basement which is my responsibility to fix. I don't even have time to tell you everything handyman that I've done. But I'm just still for whatever reason surprised at how BUSY you can actually get. When you come home from work at 6:15 and change and eat and then drive up to the house at 7:00 and work until 11:00 and then come home and make a lunch and do the dishes and go to bed at 12 and get up at 6:30 and go to work at 7:30 and then do it all over again, for an entire week? I mean it, there is busy and then there is, "life sat on me." They aren't even really in the same order of magnitude.

Had I known the level of fucked this problem was, I wouldn't have started it now. But you don't know what's under the carpet until you pull up the carpet.

I thought I was busy before. Turns out, there were plenty of hours in my day that could be filled up with things that make me miserable.

I am stressed as fuck, I have gotten absolutely nothing done this week, my exchange ends this weekend, I am leaving tomorrow afternoon and I have not yet finished packing. This week has been just awful.

Some day I will turn this experience into a "Handyman How-To" post because I've actually learned a lot of fun shit. Today is not that day.

- - -

I just printed out all my itineraries and reservations and flight info and blah blah and it's basically a short novel, I've killed a tree doing it, it weighs more than my laptop, etc etc.

This trip-- I am not even looking forward to it. i'll be honest. Work is so awful right now, and there are a bunch of due dates WHILE I AM GONE, so I have to work ON my trip, and just. ugh ugh ugh first world problems etc but.

I carry my stress in my shoulders and neck, and I nearly can't drive a car right now. I am pretty sure my back is about to leave me for another woman.

Whirlwind tour of the US is as follows:
- to Boise this weekend for my cousin's wedding
- fly to Vegas Mon with family, night in Vegas
- drive to Grand Canyon Tues, two nights in GC
-- work due Wednesday, have to work Mon and Tues to submit Wed
- return to Vegas on Thurs, night in Vegas
- Fri, fly directly to Houston, spend weekend weeping in a pillow fort
- Sun, pick up Japanese BFF at airport and head off to the plant
- Mon, tour of plant with guest
- Tues-Wed, work at the plant
-- work due Tues, will have to work the previous week to compile it
- Thurs, return home

- THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, submit a report of the work I did on the plant trip to the Overlords because
- THAT WEDNESDAY/THURSDAY, our biannual meeting with the Overlords begins

- probably every day forever: cry into beer, from stress and frustration

- date of freedom: 20 June
- 21 June: lose self in Diablo III for three consecutive days

I am trying for serenity now and I'm not sure I'll make it. OH GOOD. When can I give up on everything and be a crazy cat lady hermit hobo who never goes anywhere?

ON THE PLUS SIDE, I now have an app on my phone that can send a postcard photo from anywhere for $0.99, so if you want a really dumb postcard from Vegas or the Grand Canyon, email me your address.

ADDITIONALLY ON THE PLUS SIDE, I've written 4 Korra drabbles in the past few days. On my phone. While in meetings or otherwise working. Seeing as I haven't written a thing since December, this is cool.

I HAD ANOTHER PLUS but I have forgotten it so.
seventhe: (Default)
[personal profile] novel_machinist is trying to pull together some resources to help younger graduates feel better about finding jobs and more confident about the things that they do! This is a(n) small LOL RIGHT essay I've pulled together to help share my own experiences with interviewing and hiring. I hope it helps someone!

The information here is a lot about me and my experiences. I come across as a really grumpy asshole. But guess what! That's who is interviewing you. I don't come to work to make BFFs, I come to get shit done. I recruit in the same way. Lots of other people do too. Here's the list of ~secret~ things we're really looking for, and how you can make even a grumpy buttface like me want to bring you into my company. SPOILER: They're not so secret.

Some Information On Interviewing From The Other Side Of The Table, or: What Too Much Of Sev's Job Has Become and How You Can Hopefully Make My Life Easier When I'm Hiring. )

All of this advice can be boiled down to the following: We want to hire someone who wants to be hired by us for this specific job. We are not looking for people who want "a job", "any job". We're a puzzle piece looking for a piece that fits well, that improves us, not just any piece that's close enough. Your job is to use the interview time to determine whether or not you are a good fit, and if you are, to show me why you're the best puzzle piece out there. Because there are a lot of other puzzle pieces very similar to you, and if I don't see that tiny two-pixel difference between you and the last person I spoke to, I may throw you both into the "meh" pile.

I win at analogies forever.

Enjoy. And good luck. And if you have questions, or you want to hear the horror stories, just ask.



...Also I pick on Taco Bell a lot in this and I want to make it perfectly clear that it's just an example and I love me some shameful 3:30am TBell just like every other engineer in the world.

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