My brain seems to be losing information in the manner of a punctured bag of litter, which you carry across half of Petco, only to realize you've left a thin trail of clay and grit behind you. At least it wasn't used litter, I guess.

In recent weeks, I've forgotten:

to pay my car registration - ouch, $86 fine!

at least three birthdays

several pretty crucial things at work

my phone at a bar - at least they held on to it and I got it back

The list goes on :(

I've got to do SOMETHING as I fight through this miasma of exhaustion and (alas!) depression. I wanted to do NaNoWriMo, but that trick never works. I think I'm going to try and get back into LJ. This was meant to be a writing journal, as well as a whining journal, and I need to get back to it before I forget who I am.

I'm around... sort of. I can't believe it's October.

I'll try to update tomorrow from work. Not that I have anything interesting to report.

The apartment shook and things fell over. Good times.

Happy birthday to the lovely and luminous inmyocean!!!

Your creativity and talent are an inspiration. I hope you have a great day!!!

I'm pretty sure that I can't ignore my issues with my eye any longer. This morning, the throbbing scratchiness was back and my upper eyelid has swelled up miserably. I wonder if there's a stye in there. There is certainly a stye everywhere else: I live in a sty(e).

Oh well, happy Earth Day!

I couldn't sleep at all last night. Oh, I tried; I even went to bed early. But I tossed and turned endlessly on top of the sweat-soaked sheets, until it finally cooled off enough that I could pull the light blanket over myself, scratchy against skin rubbed raw by the heat.

Puffy and swollen
My eyelids are like crickets,
chirping in the dark

It is always an auspicious sign of the joys of the coming year to start off da birthday with a vicious hangover. ;) I now have to have family brunch with my folks and my brother and his family while crazed monkeys jackhammer apart my skull.

All in all, not a bad thing.

This is another place-holder post. I have been in a state of extreme emotional distresss and seem to be dealing with it by withdrawing from all my normal haunts, including online. Time spent with myself has not improved my overall condition, but at least I have found a few epiphanies here and there.

I'm sort of seeing the light at the end of the dark tunnel, at least in that I am once again interested in tromping about the hallowed halls of LJ.

It's a start.

I have continued to sit inside my shell, mostly not foraging outwards for anything beyond the very basic needs of sustenance, sleep, and of course going to the work-void-space.

Time continues to march inexorably onward in the meantime. I hope to have some actual content in lieu of filler one of these days.

I'm around... sort of. Mostly trapped inside boring (drudge)work and behind on anything interesting. I'll have to write a real post tonight, as the weekend was... interesting.

The shadow is not lifting. I remain cocooned in a dark grey blanket; my mind is muffled. Every desire has been laid low.

I think people are starting to notice. I am failing my invisibility spell. So the undercurrent of fear bubbles out, spilling into my chest cavity, pooling in my eye sockets. I don't want anyone to notice me.

I'm not sure what to do about any of this.

Yeah, I don't know what I did this weekend. I had to work today. Drifting... drifting. :|

I'm going to try and jumpstart myself tomorrow. Right now, I think I'm tired enough to sleep.

BFF: How do you attract the psychos?
applebright: I don't know!
applebright: It is a gift. :D
applebrigh: So perhaps it is not too late to return it!
BFF: I need to keep you away from my other friend D. Your combined powers to attract and/or create crazies would surely cause a psychotic rift in a 50 mile radius.

Once again, the internet at the home-place has been kicking me furtively in the shins, denying me the evanescent life-blood found in this transient electronic milieu. It is not the cable box; it is not the router; it is not something the people in India can diagnose. The internet at the home-place comes and goes at its own whim. Maybe the rain is really to blame (blame it on the rain... yeah... yeah).

I think it could be a cantrip forced upon me by a bloodthirsty and capricious e-spirit. Perhaps I offended this goblin by not performing my dutiful nightly oblations in a timely fashion. Here, fickle faerie, take your pound of flesh. Take many pounds of flesh. Strip me down to a raw-boned carcass. Just let me have my internet tonight.

The day started out ripe with creative possibility... but then I had to make an unexpected side-trip to the hated work-void, because the sudden realization that I hadn't done something really important flared inside my gut with the fire of 17,000 ulcers. Oh, it would have been worse, far, far worse had I sauntered into work on Monday morning with this noose rapidly closing in around my neck, so I have saved myself yet again from work-void disaster. But having now spent three hours at the office, I have lost the will to do anything even remotely productive.

Perhaps it's time to reconnect with some television, but that seems so banal. :(

I rhetorically asked for rain yesterday; it's finally raining today!

Hmm, what should I ask for today? Peace on Earth? A decent night's sleep? A boyfriend? :D

The weekend drifted past in a melted kaleidoscope of unfulfilled plans and unfinished to-do lists. Like a grey, dreary blanket, depression seems to have muffled everything going on inside my feverishly churning cortex. I have come to terms with this phenomenon, but it means I don't get anything done.

Even reading is an effort; so why should writing be any easier? All weekend long, I couldn't seem to find the attention span for anything beyond the immediate moment of instant gratification. Serve me up those bite-sized pieces of knowledge and discourse... sprinkle them with small, still-bleeding chunks of gossip... and like a side dish to this fine meal, let's add a nice helping of anxiety.

Time passes; I have nothing to show for it.

Last night, I curdled into sleep on the couch, a marionette carelessly discarded by a bored puppeteer. Nothing is colder than the aching insufficiency of pre-dawn air, scraping over my eyelids like frost-bitten windshield wipers. At six a.m., was it really worth it to climb into the equally frozen bed, or should I have just stayed up? I might have actually have made it to work on time.

But all that is in the past, and so is this:

( Small things best left forgotten )
x-posted to coffeehousepunk

How is it possibly already Tuesday night? Why am I not asleep? The sonorous pounding of my headache somewhere deep in the soft grey globular tissue behind my eyes insists otherwise; it chimes that it will be, indeed, miles to go, before I sleep.

I've been working on something that I may or may not x-post to one of the communities I've joined. I'm looking to join some other writing communities, and just write, write, write. Time is not on my side (no, it isn't...), as the tawdry and quotidian demands of daily life have conspired to keep me away from my Muse.

The days never end; the nights never end. There is still that granular boulder underneath my right eyelid. I wonder who will be the first to vote me off the island.

Considering how much I pay for cable, you'd think it would have the decency to work.

So I wrote in my paper journal instead all weekend, percolating, bubbling, letting the dark creatures of the abyss crawl out of the voidspace of my cranial cavity, slithering, smiling. There's a sort of solipsistic joy in that, don't you think?

I'm so exhausted from doing nothing, that I must now turn the limpid verdant pools within my long-suffering eye-sockets to reading whatever it is I missed over this last day and a half.