tysolna: (lazy woman)
This is December. There are roses still blooming, there are already willow catkins, and the hedgehogs and squirrels are roaming the garden.
I'm dreaming of apple blossoms for Christmas.

It's quite frustrating when you write and write, feeling pretty good about what you write, and then look at it a few days later, only to tear everything up and start anew. Of course I learn with each sentence I write, but more and more I get the feeling there is something basic I'm missing - I waffle, and don't really know where I'm going. Seems it's back to the concept board.

The other thing I need is more discipline (get ye out of the gutter, reader thoughts - you know who you are!); I've been relaxing too much this month. Maybe I should make myself a timetable, and then make myself stick to it. Discipline still doesn't come easy to me.
tysolna: (penguin punk)
I wish I knew what I did wrong yesterday so I can avoid it in the future. Whatever it was, it resulted in the first ever full-blown migraine attack since well over a year. I had almost forgotten what it felt like, too, so I didn't take the meds in time, didn't fall asleep until three, and woke up a few minutes after the book I needed to bring back before ten today started being late. Bugger.
Also, the weather is dismal, and the cat peed on the couch.
If that's any indication of how this week will be like, I'll be in bed with the covers over my head.
tysolna: (dog tired)
Mushy brain time. It's so very hard to concentrate. I fall asleep reading; not really asleep, but getting into a sort of deep meditative state where I can still hear the music playing and am aware of time passing and know I'm sitting rather uncomfortably on my sofa but am gone far enough so that it's a struggle to move; know that feeling?
Long walks in the sunshine (what, it's December tomorrow? You could have fooled me!) help to wake up, but the train of thought just doesn't want to leave the station.
I'm pulling myself together, though. Usually, I would blame the weather, but then I saw my biorhythm, and wouldn't you know, every graph, both in the primary and secondary rhythms, is low; most are between -80% and -100%.
It's almost enough to make me believe in this. At least, I have something to blame - and something to look forward to: the graphs rise again in a few days' time.
tysolna: (rocks fall)
There is a queasyness in my stomach all day, a prickle of fear on my shoulders, and the same thoughts arrive each evening when I lie in my bed. Regardless of what I do, or rather not do, people take more money out of my account than I can save in order to get out of debt by the end of the year. Why the end of the year? Because that is the end of my current employment, and there is no other yet in sight.
I'm starting to hate turning over every cent twice before I spend it, or rather, not spend it.

One day, I will have a safe employment and regular paycheck, and will be able to look back at this and say yes, I know what it's like. But damn, let this be over already.
tysolna: (girl studying)
It's Sunday evening. Although I am still not running on full power, I am so sick and tired of being sick that I have decided to ignore it come Monday morning. The place is a mess, work is waiting, and I think two and a half weeks of sick leave is enough.

Many worries piling up again. I'll be out of a job come January; Cardiff didn't want me (no surprises there); bills flowing in; etc.
On the other hand, think about it. If I write five pages a day for the next forty days, I'll have the damn thing finished. The question is, can I write five pages a day, each day, for the next forty days? We'll see.
Had a talk with my Prof last week, which was good. I started insisting on some help and attention, and will get it. She'll get one mail per week from me starting Tuesday.


Edit: Oh, and if anyone here could recommend a funny book? I'm looking for a book that makes me laugh while reading it; intelligently funny, punny, and lighthearted. I could use a laugh.
tysolna: (penguin punk)
The other day, I paid 10 Euro for a five-minute conversation with a Doctor and a prescription.

I played the lottery, but believe me, had I won, I would sound different today. I did have three numbers correct, but in three different fields. Drat.

My last contract with UofO is signed. I'll be out of work come January 1st. Time to start looking for something new to be able to pay my bills. Or rather, to get out of debt. And high time to finish what I've started.

My body seems to have an anxiety attack, I'm bouncing off the walls, but can't get anything done, and can't concentrate too well. Methinks I need to take up meditation of some sort. Bloody hormones.
tysolna: (secret garden)
The beautiful thing about waking up with a splitting headache that brings tears to your eyes and makes you want to go and sit in a dark, silent room is the lightness and thankfulness the moment you realize it's gone.

Thanks for the reminder, Mother Nature.
tysolna: (take me away)
I don't know why, but I find it astonishingly hard at the moment to focus and concentrate on something, be it reading, writing or whatever. It's like I start somewhere and my train of thought jumps around not only one track, but entire planets.
So I made a biorhythm reading on a site where you can get those for free. Turns out my Intellectual curve is way in decline, and my Secondary Wisdom curve is in the negatives already. I'm going to use that as a rather good excuse.
tysolna: (springseil)
I think I might have finally found the knack of shutting off the thinking and just do things. Quite a success for me, that is. For example, dancing.
People who've met me in party-like siuations where dancing is involved probably know that I am always the one sitting down or standing around like a wallflower, and no amount of coaxing will make me step onto the dance floor. It's been like that ever since I was 16 and school discos started, and over time, it's become a habit hard to break, and the more people coaxed me, the more stubbornly I refused. Why? I can't remember.
Yes, well. A few days ago, the same situation arises, and HabitBrain starts saying "nononoNO". "Oh, shut up", I think, and had a fun time dancing. I'm so definitely not 16 any more.
tysolna: (moon with rocket)
Why is it that when you can do anything you want to, all you really want to do is nothing? Is this a Zen thing, or is it simple lazyness?
tysolna: (mathis idiot)
Sometimes, I think that there's only a finite amount of happiness in the world, which has to be spread thinly amongst all people. When I hear happy news from one side, it's always counterbalanced by someone else feeling bad. But I'm happy for the lucky people, and feel sad for the unlucky ones.

The weather is decidedly crappy today; it can't decide whether it wants to be sunny and warmish, or overcast, and it's occasionally rainy, and even sleet's falling (it's sleeting?). Not even our cat wants to go out.

I've woken up with a headache which is getting steadily worse; my fingers feel like wood, I feel like I'm coming down with a cold, and I can't think - I have teh dumb, as someone somewhere said. The brain's on neutral, purring away idly like a cat on a comfy chair. Clearly, today is not a day for pondering the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

And probably not a day to write a LJ entry, either, which is why I'll now go and huddle up in bed with a book entitled "The Big Sleep".
It's by Raymond Chandler, in case you were wondering.

Wake me up if there are any exciting news to share. :-D
tysolna: (highland fling)
Via [livejournal.com profile] dduane: The Housewives' Tarot.
Lovely, lovely. I especially like how the Devil is portrayed in this Tarot set.

It is March 1st, and it's snowing. I'm not used to winter clinging on like this. On the other hand, I don't wish for it to be summer, because summer's usually too hot under my roof. Spring's nice, but then again many people will be coming down with allergies, so spring is out, too. Autumn leads into winter, and also nature makes a right mess, what with leaves falling and so on. Weather sucks. It's the future, where are the automatic weather controls? And my flying car?
What also sucks is that there's nothing on TV any more, now that the games are over. But, there's never a suckage without a bright spark on the horizon: no TV means more time for other things. Such as making mind maps and plans and actually putting them into practice.
Oh, yes, it's Lent again, and I don't know what to give up. Physical vices - like what? I don't drink, I don't smoke, don't ask about my sex life, I'm changing my diet anyway at the moment, I avoid sugar like it's poison, I'm going swimming at least once a week, and I work out a little. The only vice I can think of is that I simply can't seem to get up early in the morning.
Mental vices, now there's an area that needs cleaning up. Procastrination, a tendency to get distracted (she wrote in a LJ update), occasional lazyness, and derailing my train of thought, or rather letting it run into the wrong direction. Let's see how much of that I can give up.

I don't think I'll give up on the derailing of thought-trains. That vice has made me giggle three times today. And snow may be icky around this time of year, but the late sunshine makes such pretty colours.


Wat seggt de Fru tu'm Tiefkühlfisch? - "Na, denn man tau!"

Ahì me

Feb. 16th, 2006 04:50 pm
tysolna: (choochoo coffee)
At work again; digitizing and listening to a lecture held almost twenty years ago at this University about Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal". Utterly marvellous. The teacher from Hull just said, "Be careful. Never trust politicians or a lecturer". He's great, whoever he is.

I, on the other hand, am not great. At least, I don't feel great at the moment. I wish it was spring already, and I am glad February is such a short month (not least of all because then my salary arrives earlier; I do need the money; at the moment I don't even dare to look at my bank statements because the instant I do, the old familiar fear is back; but anyway).
I am dissatisfied with myself. I am slacking again, in many areas. I haven't finished a book for weeks, which considering I am a bookworm is telling in itself. I haven't written one word. I can't fall asleep at night and I can't wake up in the morning. I am not depressed, hooray for small favours, but I am annoyed and angry, both at the world and myself, which together with a surplus of nervous energy is contributing to a general feeling of "grARGH"-ness. If you know what I mean.

At least I am annoyed and angry enough to want to get off my ass and change something. Because I have the feeling that change is much needed. Or something to break open this shell of winter's sleep holding my mind.

Edit: While walking home after work, through the rain, and taking a shortcut across the old graveyard, I realized that what has pushed the "off"-button of my mind is the season, and that the "grARGH"-feeling is what birds, bees and trees experience when winter is almost over. Waking up and growing, that's what spring is for. It's not all bad, at that.
tysolna: (Default)
I'm heartily sick of calling people and leaving messages on their answerphones, sending text messages, or writing emails, and not receiving any replies. OK, so modern media are not infallible, but with the amount of contacts I sent out, at least some should have arrived.
There are two options open to me now: I either wait until they think of me and reply, or I pay them a surprise visit. There are some where the second option is tempting, but then those are mostly not in the closer area. Meanwhile, it's not as if I have nothing to do, but I miss my peeps - contrary to what I thought about half a year ago, I am not a hermit after all.

And on top of it all, I managed to cut the tip of my left index finger while cutting bread this morning. Brilliant - there goes violin practice today.

On the other hand - from here, the day can only get better. Right?

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