Mar. 13th, 2002

ravencallscrows: (kiltboy)

Well, last night was odd. Not bad, just odd.

After cancelling earlier, Christine came up anyway, albeit with somewhat different objectives- since they're ripping up chunks of her apartment, she needed someone to watch her kitty and was reworking her resume to go find other employment.

It's nice to be able to help, but it'd be nice to know for certain if we're a) the new friends, or b) the "cool adults" every neighbourhood used to have- you know, the ones where the kids always liked to go hang out with because they were fun and/or useful.

I need to stop analyzing this, or it'll make me crazy. One thing's for certain- most of my initial assessment (9 February, if anyone really wants to page back and read it) seems valid, and she is cool to hang out with.

ravencallscrows: (Default)
I'm exhausted. Between my less than optimal work situation- hey, the way the job market is, i at least have a job- and driving three hours or more to and from work daily, there's fifty-five hours of each week already spoken for. I haven't been sleeping well lately, either- a combination of not being able to get comfortable and not being able to find a stasis temperature. Still, chalk that up for six hours of attempting to sleep weeknights and eight or more on the weekends. That's another forty-six hours right there. Suddenly, out of the hundred and sixty eight hours of each week, at least a hundred and one are already committed, and with the traffic flow of the last few weeks, it has been closer to four or five a day, so that hundred and one is probably closer to a hundred and six.

I could probably account for most of my time each week, but that'd be a pointless exercise- much like testing Arabic software that won't be released for over two years still- and would just serve to depress me.

As caught in the malaise of physical, emotional and spiritual exhaustion as i am, I just need to push on- much like a long-distance runner who has just “hit the wall,” under the theory that once something breaks and one section of the being is happy, the rest will follow suit.

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Vanya Y Tucherov

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