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Oct. 10th, 2006 09:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyOkay, I'm really sorry but I just hate the world right now.
I kinda... I don't notice how much I build myself up to doctors appointments. I mean, it's not like I'm excited about them or anything, but there's always this faint persistent hope that maybe this time, since it's been going on since August and all, they might have some idea of what might be wrong with me. But no. No, I have to wait until my scan in November, and there are no more suitable painkillers than the ones that are currently not working, and they want to steal more of my blood and see if I have thyroid problems and meanwhile it's getting worse and hurting more and getting harder and harder to stick it out at work and goddammit I like this stupid job.
Goddammit.
I'm trying to write more of my silly fic, which isn't working so much because I'm hurting and it's difficult to concentrate. It's interesting, though, because it's possibly the first fic I've actually written to please myself. Usually, even if I don't explicitly state it, I have someone in mind when I'm writing. Someone I want to make feel better, or impress, or persuade to like me more. So I can never tell if it's working, because it's not designed to work for me. Whereas this one is entirely, entirely self indulgence, and if![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soupytwist's reactions are any indication it might work to entertain other people too, and it's a hell of a lot of fun. So that's a happy thing and I will bludgeon my stupid insides into submission if I have to so I can get this written.
Also, I had a classics class today with the most magnificent teacher who insisted he was Merlin and was going to turn latecomers into nasty creatures, and who went off on a huge tangent in the middle of a lesson on Odysseus to rapturise about Jacobite rebellion songs and rant about how there are no real kings any more and talk about rock and roll and suchlike and so forth. He's ridiculously dramatic, and the girl I was supporting, who's hearing impaired, has trouble with him because of the pitch and volume shifts when he's drama-ing about, but I was having an absolute whale of a time. (I've also offered to give her a hand during my lunchtimes with her essay structure. She's a sweetheart.)
I'm absolutely kernackereded. Didn't get enough sleep last night, I think. And I've had half an hour on the internets and I've only got I think another half hour before I'm booted off, so I'm going to find something mindless and happy-endingy to read.
(I guess I don't hate the world that much. I just wish I knew what the hell was wrong with me.)
I kinda... I don't notice how much I build myself up to doctors appointments. I mean, it's not like I'm excited about them or anything, but there's always this faint persistent hope that maybe this time, since it's been going on since August and all, they might have some idea of what might be wrong with me. But no. No, I have to wait until my scan in November, and there are no more suitable painkillers than the ones that are currently not working, and they want to steal more of my blood and see if I have thyroid problems and meanwhile it's getting worse and hurting more and getting harder and harder to stick it out at work and goddammit I like this stupid job.
Goddammit.
I'm trying to write more of my silly fic, which isn't working so much because I'm hurting and it's difficult to concentrate. It's interesting, though, because it's possibly the first fic I've actually written to please myself. Usually, even if I don't explicitly state it, I have someone in mind when I'm writing. Someone I want to make feel better, or impress, or persuade to like me more. So I can never tell if it's working, because it's not designed to work for me. Whereas this one is entirely, entirely self indulgence, and if
soupytwist's reactions are any indication it might work to entertain other people too, and it's a hell of a lot of fun. So that's a happy thing and I will bludgeon my stupid insides into submission if I have to so I can get this written. Also, I had a classics class today with the most magnificent teacher who insisted he was Merlin and was going to turn latecomers into nasty creatures, and who went off on a huge tangent in the middle of a lesson on Odysseus to rapturise about Jacobite rebellion songs and rant about how there are no real kings any more and talk about rock and roll and suchlike and so forth. He's ridiculously dramatic, and the girl I was supporting, who's hearing impaired, has trouble with him because of the pitch and volume shifts when he's drama-ing about, but I was having an absolute whale of a time. (I've also offered to give her a hand during my lunchtimes with her essay structure. She's a sweetheart.)
I'm absolutely kernackereded. Didn't get enough sleep last night, I think. And I've had half an hour on the internets and I've only got I think another half hour before I'm booted off, so I'm going to find something mindless and happy-endingy to read.
(I guess I don't hate the world that much. I just wish I knew what the hell was wrong with me.)
