This is one of those "feeling obliged" entries, despite the fact that I don't feel like I have much to say at the moment. I've been spending much of the past few days away from the computer but none of my time away from the machine has been spent in particularly deep thought. Rather than studying the I Ching, or cudgeling my brains for a new job-hunting strategy, I've been visiting with friends and generally trying to avoid thinking about my job situation.
Some new ideas have been fermenting in my skull - all derivative ones, but I can't really complain too much. At this point, any evidence that my neurons are still firing is to be appreciated.It's looking increasingly like October's Chuckling Cthulhu event will be a Dune larp, rather than Thirteen Days of Terror. I'm rather keen on running the latter, but Alex has pointed out that it would make for a good convention game - easy to costume, single-room setting - and Alex is fairly sharp on these matters. So...Dune, it is.
Otherwise, I've been doing some game-writing - mostly stuff for Rob's Champions game. I've also just remembered that my first Network 23 game is coming up in a week and a half and I really wanted to finish the first two adventures before I started the campaign. I don't think the campaign will last all that long, really - between the difficulty of getting everyone together, and the fact that I think the thrill of the setting will wear off in short order, I suspect the whole thing will be of rather finite duration. Still, I hate having to wing it when GMing, so I have to get cracking on that little project...
So, as I sink deeper into my Unemployed Rut, I realize that I'm drifting away from people Some circumstances are beyond my control, others aren't. I don't drive, my husband is a self-admitted hermit-crab on the weekends (thus limiting my freedom to abuse him for chauffeuring duties), and as my funds become thinner and thinner, I find myself loathe to spend the money on taking the train to visit friends. Heck, even if I could drive, the car is in no state to go further than about thirty miles in a single trip.
Worse yet, I'm getting antisocial and lazy. Far easier to sit in front of the computer and 'chat' with various acquaintances.
A friend of mine asked me to visit, last week and I turned them down. There were several reasons. I didn't feel like riding the train and bus for the best part of two hours to get to their end of town, nor did I feel like paying for it. But I also realized that we just wouldn't have much to say to each other, these days. We used to be quite close - sharing the same social circle, the same hobbies and clubs. But time's passage has done its thing and our pool of commonalities is decreasing.
And, heavens forgive me, but the few things we have in common, I am starting to find incredibly boring. There's only so many hours a week I can listen to someone talk about their characters. We don't converse that much any more - we exchange monologues.
What we dislike in others, we are guilty of ourselves - god knows that's true in this case. I've been trying to rein in my egocentric conversational habits. It's been uphill work but some progress has been made. I think. At least, when I do go out into a social gathering (most recently two weeks ago, incidentally) I do my best to pay attention to what the other people are saying and respond to them, rather than do the equivalent of "That's great, let's talk about me, now..." I ask questions of my companions, try to find interest in their interests and concerns and just generally rein in my mouth.
Unfortunately, this means that when I run into it amongst my more usual circle of friends, it grates on me just that bit much more.
Familiarity is continuing to breed contempt. After all, there's only so many times you can tell the same stories to each other. From thence, zoning-out and egocentric conversational gambits are soon to follow.
Cynic much? Yeah...
I feel slightly guilty for snubbing that friend of last week - but I certainly can't explain why I did it, not to them. As might be guessed, hearing "What would we say to each other? You'll go on about the games you're in, the men you're dating and your annoying co-workers - and I'll try to keep up, even though I don't play in those games, don't know those men and I certainly don't work in your office. Then I'll bore you stupid with whiny tales about how frustrated I am about the job hunt, or the latest anecdote about my cats because I sure as hell haven't been up to anything lately. Two hours later, we'll have talked up a storm and not retained a single word." wouldn't be received well - nor would I blame my friend for such a reception.
I need new friends to jazz things up a bit, but I have very limited means for making new friends at this point - what, between my attitude and my circumstances and all. I tried a Livejournal meetup last month, and that went quite well. I will try it again in three weeks, I think. But there's got to be more I can do... I've applied to join a couple of online RPGs, but online gamers can be a slippery lot - hard to know, or not worth knowing at all.
I need a job!
Okay, I need something vaguely upbeat to counteract that steaming heap of horseshit. See, I don't take my own emotions very seriously. It's a side effect of being raised by a very cynical couple of people. Oh, they did a pretty good job in many ways, but emotional self-awareness and seriousness towards same was not one of them. "Americans are so obsessed about themselves, with self-analysis! It's so stupid!" was a frequent refrain in the household. Meanwhile, it didn't occur to them that I was growing up as a de-facto American and an over-sensitive one, to boot.
Hell, straying off topic again... Happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
Crud, I'm fresh out.
It's so much easier to update my livejournal with mindless twaddle, so I've rather neglected poor little Yestermonth. Then again, given the generally vitriolic and self-pitying tone of this diary, perhaps a little neglect is a good thing.
I'm glad I have friends who have put up with me throughout this period. I'm not very tolerant of extended self-pity - in myself or others - so I've particularly lucked out with the gang who are putting up with me. Some people have remained silent at odd times but... that's up to them. Either they're tired of my whining, or just have better things to do than monitor the minutiae of my life. Go figure. Mental notes have been made, future actions and reactions are planned, if they're warranted.
I crashed and burned last week. I got hired suspiciously quickly - no interview, or anything - for a job and then found out, on the first day, that I was grotesquely under-qualified. Hysterical panic immediately set in, I spent most o my lunch-break crying in the kitchen, and I quit at day's end. Not a great leap forward for the self-esteem. I did my best not to think about it all weekend, but now it's Monday, I have a month left of unemployment money, and the voice of panic has returned.
I had to quit that job. I wouldn't have been able to hack it and I would have screwed it up, badly. It was a case of "feel like shit now, or later" and I chose now.
I've been sending unsolicited resumes to businesses that look interesting that might need a middle-of-the-road admin: advertising agencies, interior decorating firms, casting agencies, etc. I'll probably not get a whisper of a response, but I have to try.
I need something to do to keep my mind off eating junk-food and drinking too damn much. I'm not reaching for the wine bottle before the sun is over the yardarm - not yet - but I've had more slightly-hung-over mornings in this past summer than I care to admit. And the overeating is a straight comfort/oral-fixation thing.
Yeah, me with an oral fixation - big surprise, huh? Note for online acquaintances: if you think I go on and on in this venue, you should hear me when my mouth is in top gear. I never shut up. I'm lucky I missed the cigarette bullet. The fatty-foods bullet is proving a little harder to dodge. Fortunately, the voice of reason is still shouting loud enough to stop the worst of my overeating. You worked too hard to lose that extra weight, you're going to feel like shit if you gain it all back again in an extended fit of pique... Amen!
I'm retreating into fantasy life... gaming ideas, character stories,
naps that get longer and longer for the escapist dreams they provide.
Nothing good is going to come of this. If anything could be gained by
wishing, I would have won the lottery by now. And rewound my life twelve
years. And transformed into someone taller, thinner and entirely more
organized and assertive.
I'm coming off a mild drunk - nothing like drinking every two nights to up one's tolerance - IMing with a friend who is ecstatic with his recent discovery that women are willing to spend time with him and realizing that I am in a piss poor and nasty mood. Rather than let it stew in my head and foster further poisonous thoughts, I'm dumping it here. Your presence, dear reader, is incidental.
Dissection of pissiness - because understanding is the first step to
And, simultaneous to this typing, I'm recommending reading and informational sources (about polyamory) to this friend. I might gnash my teeth and bitch and moan, but my urge to be 'helpful' seems to always win overall, so I guess that's something. Right?
Oh, I'm just bitchy because I'm bored - bored of unemployment, bored of looking for work, bored of my days and weekends being the same dam' thing with the same dam' people. Furthermore, Alex and I seem to have quietly agreed on a policy of non-communication because we're both so bloody miserable with our employment situations. He hates his job, I hate my lack of one. Oh, we're perfectly happy about each other - I think - but we're both so self-absorbed in our other misery, that talking to each other hardly improves it. We will just bitch to each other about our self-related problems, and then feel guilty for not being more receptive and responsive to the other's needs.
Yeah, heads up asses all over the place. Your proctologist called...