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fluster-cluck
October 01, 2015

My company is going through a major email client upgrade and consolidation, and it is one Texas-sized titty-twister of a mess.

Plus, one of my projects is getting screwed with for the second time, which makes me very bitey.

My pen trays arrived!!; Pendora traced them to an unclaimed mail bin at the post office, due to a damaged label. And she's re-sending the order, and doubling it, because she is at least 172 kinds of awesome. I got home at 4:25, and by a quarter to five, I already had two pen boxes set up.


How I know it's a depressive episode coming on:
What I call "sub-clinical weepiness": The feeling that while you may not, at this minute, be crying--you are only about 3 inches away from doing so.

Major feelings of impending doom and gloom. Which, I presume, is the anxiety coming back.

Avoiding contact with people, both the direct, "face-to-face" kind and the indirect, "social media, reading the news, watching a movie, only reading a book if it was published more than a hundred years ago" kind.

Here's a weird one: for as long as I can remember, I've done this strange thing when I'm depressed--I tell myself that I'm "not interested" in the things I enjoy, and that's why I'm avoiding them. And even as I say it, I know I'm lying. But I can't help avoiding those things anyway.

I think I've finally figured it out: I'm protecting myself.

Protecting myself from the possibility of losing my love of those things.

Because if I did them, and I couldn't feel any enjoyment--they would be ruined.

So basically: Don't ever try to have a good time, because you might not have a good time, and if you don't it probably means you won't have a good time ever again. Well, DEAR BRAIN: THIS IS STUPID. STOP IT AT ONCE. I mean really. Making sure I don't ever have a good time. In order to...protect me from... not having a good time, ever?!

There's a flaw in there somewhere.
On a slightly less down note--vacation starts tomorrow. Yay?

READING:
"The Red Lady" (1920), by Katharine Newlin Burt Just started it; it seems, thus far, to be a sort of Southern Gothic ghost story. Not my usual style one bit, but since it is the season for such things, I decided I'll give it a try.

LISTENING:
I have my new stereo, and despite the fact that they screwed up the controls, and despite the fact that the JVC file-managing software is not 64-bit compatible--I'M LOVING IT. I can still use my MP3, or a thumb-drive, even if my search functionality is limited. I can use Pandora, and, of course, I can still play CDs. So basically, I've been listening to EVERYTHING.

INKED UP:
Well, nothing special, really. Been very busy, and not really getting to play. So mostly I've been using my workhorse pens: The Conklin Duragraph fine with Pelikan Brilliant Brown, and the Waterman Phileas Kultur fine with Waterman Serenity Blue. No time for prima donnas!

recede - proceed

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