Saturday, May 21, 2011

Plan of Attack

Today is the 21st of May. I leave the country on the 24th of June, at 5 am. So the days in which I am able to get my to-do list worked on number 34. And the to-do list is comprised of the following items.

  • Write 7 short stories. 
    • I promised!
  • Move house
    • Clean the house from top to bottom, 
    • pack all the things, 
    • move all the things.
  • Twice
    • Yes, three weeks after I do it once, I get to do it again. 
    • YEEHAH.
  • Work 20 days out of the 34.
    • Making me approximately $1300.00 I can spend on things like SHOES. 
    • And food and debt.
    • Mostly debt.
  • Buy shoes
    • Snow boots, no matter how well-ventilated with broken heels, don't work so well in California. Or so I hear.
  • Also buy backup hard drive, and other necessaries. 
    • Possibly a suitcase with a zipper that doesn't try to eat anything except its other half. I hear they're fashionable now.
  • Apply for student loans.
    • Yeah, this is pretty darn non-negotiable.
  • See x-men: first class
    • It's a matter of honour.
  • Sleep.
    • Going into Clarion sleep-deprived would be BAD. VERY BAD.
  • Eat. 
    • It's good for the brain.
  • Read.
    • The more books I own that I can read, the less I have to ship.
    • Also, it's good for the writing. 
    • And the soul.
  • Buy travel tickets so that I can get home from the states.
  • In related news, I also have to arrange places to stay and people to visit on the trip back. 
    • Friends with houses you can stay at. They're for winners, you know.
  • I like bullet points.
  • Also it looks like I should get busy!

Friday, May 20, 2011

Woah.

For reasons that seemed good at the time, this morning I have drunk two coffees, a tea and a French vanilla. All before 10:00 AM.

I'm now trying to remember how to blink. 

Sunday, May 15, 2011

An open question for the internet

My sister is visiting me this week, and perhaps in reaction to the 3 weeks previous I spent alone, we've been doing a lot of talking. And since she's recently returned from L'Abri, and I have in the past shown some interest in philosophy, we've been talking a lot about the purpose of life, the value of entertainment, plans for the future, and suchlike. Your usual basic conversation topics. :D

These conversations have led me to the realization that my overall goal towards life is to make sure I enjoy it. 

That's not quite as narcissistic and lazy as it sounds, because I know to be able to enjoy my life I have to be able to look back at my individual days and say "that was a good day." And to be able to call a day "good" when it's over, I need to be productive within the day.

But it's still pretty narcissistic and lazy.

So I guess my question is this. Is it wrong to be trying to work towards feeling happy most of the time? (Ironically, since I figured out I'd been doing this I haven't felt particularly delighted with my life.) Is it especially wrong since most of my coping mechanisms seem to be lazy (sleeping 9 hours a night) or especially self-serving (writing fun things and reading?) It's just that after spending so many years unhappy I am very jealous of my emotional happiness, and the methods I've found to attain it. But should I look for more useful, productive methods of finding happiness? 

Saturday, May 7, 2011

This blog post turned into mostly whining, I'm sorry!

When I moved to town, I had this wonderful mental plan all worked out. By walking distances and up and down hills carrying groceries and such all the time, I'd finally get a proper cardiovascular system! *throws confetti*

It has been a lifelong goal of mine to finally get to the point where I can exert myself at all without practically sucking the leaves off of trees I pass, so this plan was legitimately awesome, in my mind. And now it's been over four months, and now when I walk up hills I- appear to have an interest in becoming a human vacuum.

It is getting quite frustrating, to be honest. I got halfway to the mall today, (going to watch a movie, (Thor, it was fun,)) and I almost cried from the sheer frustration of my lungs not keeping up with the rest of me. The rest of my body was rested and ready to go- and my throat was closing. AUUUGGGHHHHHHHH. (ahem.)

I don't like to think of myself as a physical weakling, and in fact for a number of years I've identified myself as being the person who can totally walk 14 km just for the heck of it. And instead to not being able to break over the barrier and get the taste of blood out of my mouth? Seriously, it should not take four months to get my lungs working...

That was my mental state. And then recently I flashed back to a doctor's appt a few years ago when I had this cough I couldn't kick. I was told that I have reactive airways, which was basically a mild form of asthma. I read this as being told "it's all in your head, here, have a placebo," and wikipedia seemed to back that up. Now though, I'm wondering if I should speak to a doctor about actually getting a puffer. Or an actual "it's all in your head" verdict.

I mean, I've walked enough that I've actually developed muscles in my legs, and most of the walking has been up and down hills. However, I have not gotten at all less gaspy about walking up and down those hills. I have to stop and get my breath back at the top of every one- and there are a lot. That doesn't seen like an issue other people have, so much?

Oh, I'm probably just making a mountain out of a molehill. I'll tell you more about Thor later. :D

Thursday, May 5, 2011

I'm better disguised than I thought.

So, at work, one of the customers said "Oh, what a lovely accent," and I assumed she was talking about me. Not that I assume naturally that my accent is "lovely," but I've been told enough times that I have one, that one of my core beliefs is that I "talk funny." So I smiled, and said "mine?"

Nope.

It turns out she was referring to my english co-worker, and clarified this by saying. "No, you're just a regular Newfie!" *reproachful stare at me* *wistful stare at my co-worker with the accent*

It wasn't the most complimentary way to be told that after going on ten years of living in Newfoundland, I've finally acclimatized. But this is a good development? I think?
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