Stress Direction and the Time I Have To Do Things

So I haven’t posted anything here very recently–hell, last thing I posted was a picture of a goat (which I swear is more impressive than it sounds) I drew for one of my sister’s stories.

I don’t think I have quite the steady readership here, but I do write elsewhere (fanfiction, mostly, on Archive Of Our Own, and Fanfiction.net), and I do actually have regular visitors to many of my stories.

Hell, in a world of usernames mostly made or kept from your tweens or drunken haha-this-is-obviously-the-best-idea‘s, I recognize a rather astonishing amount of usernames and profile pictures that aren’t actually of people. (Hahaha, yes, so sayeth Doodled93 with a Halloween costumed selfie to the one side and a picture of my dog on the other. But my username is an adaption of a childhood nickname and the creative use of my birth year, so.)

But the thing is, I have a pretty steady readership in my fanfiction plunges, people I’m surprised to see reviewing/commenting on one story or another because they’re usually commenting on other fandoms I’ve written in, and usually it’s pretty nice. The thing I like about Ao3 (archive of our own, for those not in the know) is how friendly everyone is, and while part of that, I think, is because you have to join a usually quick waiting list to even get an account (whereas there are many dud ffn.net accounts), but also because people looking into fanfiction are generally pretty nice.

Actually care about what you post, the quality you crank out, and people will respond.

I think the most negative comments I get nowadays is from people reviewing for the first time a story I wrote nearly, gosh, 8 years ago now(02/14), and it’s mostly about the overuse of some punctuation.

But the negative comments I get aren’t the annoying ones, not really, and I think I’ve mentioned this before, but berating and shouting at me for not having updated one story in a while gets me stressed and annoyed and a bit spiteful. 

It’s the stressed part of that mix that I’m going to be focusing on today, but you should really pay attention to the fact that when I get annoyed I get spiteful.

If you’ve read anything of mine before this, of the non-fiction side of things, you’ll know that I’ve had a lot to say about stress. I’ve written about stressful situations, I’ve written about what stress is really like for me, I’ve even just tagged posts as ‘stress’ or ‘stressful’ simply because writing about it gets my anxiety up.

I don’t deal with stress well.

I think I’ve gotten better, in that instead of bottling it up I let it out in bursts to Lexy and internet and real life friends in short bursts, but I still have the avoid-it instinct…

Do you see why it is doubly unwise to yell at me and snark about when I’ll likely update?

Because I’m NOT a writer that can work within a certain deadline, I am simply one that can work within parameters. Hmm, should this story be 10k/chapter, or maybe 5k, or should this be every 7 pages, or… hmm. When should I be updating this, because otherwise the chapter will either go on forever or else never get worked on due to its open-ended-ness.

When I was in a bad way after Ottawa-related failings, I was stressed and unhappy and trying my best to avoid real life and all that comes with that, and so I got quite a bit of writing done.

Because when you’re avoiding real life, fiction is where it’s at.

Or just the internet in general.

I read and wrote a hell of a lot, and was unemployed so I had all the time I could possibly want and/or need, and basically turned all my attention towards plot, character development, 10k long chapters, and taking breaks in-between to finish whole seasons of TV shows. As uncomfortable as it may seem to you, I wallowed in unemployment and a feeling of failure but was 80% oblivious to it because 80% of my day was turned towards fictional drama, and a large part of the remaining 20% was eating and sleeping in.

Now, however, I’m in a bit of a better place, and I have a job.

Full-time even, and for a while I had TWO jobs, at least until current job was like “What would it take for you to quit working other job and come here full-time?”

Kudos to past put-on-the-spot me, because I responded with ‘benefits’, because that seemed more likely than ‘more than minimum wage’.

And now while I have stressy bits of work (working in the produce section of an organic foods store means there’s ALWAYS SOMETHING TO BE DONE, and also manager issues but whatever), I am working full-time.

I can no longer utilize my best writing time (between 10pm and 2am) because I either have work to get to at 7am, or I’ve returned from an exhausting shift that ended at 9:30pm.

So no, my writing is not happening at quite the same pace as it was last year, or even over the summer, but you know what?

Stress is usually the thing that gets me writing, because it is an escape.

Sometimes more than reading, because I am quite literally feeling like I’m in my characters head.

When I haven’t written in a long while, or am blanking on what–or how–to write in a particular story I have yet to update for a while, I experience a bit of anxiety, because I do want to write. I enjoy it. But I stress myself out in a minimal way when I haven’t updated something in a while, because I’m disappointing myself. Not in a ‘you could do better’ kind of way, but more like making plans, looking forward to it, and then finding out that either you or the person(s) you were going to hang out with and do that thing with can’t make it.

Oh, ok. Next time then. 

But when I get passive aggressive remarks and pressure from people who, while it’s flattering that they’re enjoying what I’ve written that much, don’t give a f*** what else I’m doing or how much pressure they and their unknowing compadre’s are putting on me, who would very likely feel a bit of camaraderie with the others if they knew (Hah, the author will have to update sooner than expected if we’re ALL shouting at the same time), well.

Stressed.

Annoyed.

Spiteful.

Let’s work our way up, shall we?

Spite, a desire to hurt, annoy, or offend someone.

Leads up to Annoy, irritate (someone); make (someone) a little angry.

And though it’s not in there, anger is part of this too.

I don’t like being angry, I don’t like the way it makes me feel, I don’t like experiencing that boiling in my gut, and I especially don’t like how hard it is to keep it focused on the intended recipient/aggressor. It’s like the difference between being a little peeved and being actually angry is like using two different types of weapons. Being peeved is like your emotions are turned into a laser, easy to point it at the thing that’s causing it.

Being angry is like having that laser pointer turned into some kind of gun that lets out a poisonous miasma. It’s scary, there’s kickback that can injure you, and as soon as it’s out, it’s up in the air. It could affect anyone. Could hurt anyone.

And you know what? If you let me get to know you for 48 hours, within that 48 hours I will have figured out what sort of thing I would have to say to you to actually hurt your feelings, the way that shouldn’t hurt because it’s a relative stranger saying it to you, but hits deep anyways. But I don’t say it. Ever. Because if hearing that it’s that easy to figure out how to hurt a stranger verbally puts you off from ever wanting to interact or even meet me, then maybe it’ll change your mind to hear that I don’t say any of it because I find it very easy to empathize, and I’m selfish enough to not want the emotional backlash of hurting your feelings.

But being actually angry makes that wall in my head of ‘no, you do not say this ever’ seem more like a line, and hey, isn’t it closer than I thought it was, and I bet I could walk right over it, easy as pie.

And that is stressful.

Stress, a state of mental or emotional strain or tension resulting from adverse or very demanding circumstances, makes me want to escape. I don’t like being angry because I don’t like confrontation, and I don’t like actually feeling stressed out because I don’t like feeling like I need to escape.

And I really don’t like feeling like I need to escape from my escape.

There are a few situations that I get into that translate into me not being able to write coherently/well.

Alcohol. I will never be that writer who sits down to write with a bottle of wine (i don’t drink wine but that’s besides the point), or with a beer, and a masterpiece will never have its rough draft written in a drunken haze.

Exhaustion. I can write best when it’s late into the night, but I’m pretty antisocial, and interacting with people is exhausting. This is why I don’t really write well after work, because 1) I’m tired, and 2) writing how character a interacts with characters b-z around them is working socialization muscles that do not have the capabilities for this sort of work. I get steadily more anxiety ridden when I have to talk for a prolonged amount of time, and that makes me stressed, and makes me want to escape, and it’s hard to interact socially and also escape at the same time.

And I kind of just mentioned it within ‘exhaustion’, but Stress.

Because if you missed it,

It is hard to interact with anything when all you want to do is escape.

So yeah, this is 1700 words of unhappiness at how some strangers on the internet are making something I enjoy, something I like escaping to, into something I feel like I need to escape from.

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My Roommate the Sasquatch

I am a student of University of Ottawa, and I’m living in res. I managed to get an apartment style residence, which means that there’s 4 rooms in total, a kitchen area, two bathrooms, and a living room area.

So I have three roommates, two boys and one other girl, and I have to share a washroom with one of the boys…

In my mind I now call him Sasquatch.

I pretty much never see him… he’s hairy… and leaves mysterious signs of his presence via hairiness.

I have posted something in complaint before, HERE, on how he leaves thousands of little hairs on the floor of the shower. It’s disgusting, grosses me out, and I have to spend some time before each shower rinsing the hairs down the drain.

I have also posted a complaint HERE about how my roommates are stealing my food. This is just so you know exactly how unimpressed I am with my roommates.

But earlier this week the grossness from the shower migrated to the sink.

Cue Horrified expression

And I was horrified.

I took this picture not so shortly after I escaped from the nastyness, because I was certain the horrified look that came to my face upon discovery was still there

You know something’s bad when you feel like you have to wash your hands after you wash your hands.

Look upon it in horror!

It’s like all the grossness on the floor of the shower was brought to this smaller area, with dirt and grime and strange blue… stuff to create this concentration of nastyness that, I am pretty much ENTIRELY sure that The Sasquatch heard me complain about from his room…

He possibly even heard me rant to my Mom on the phone later that night, but if he managed to miss the startled “HOLY SHIT!” that flew from my mouth when moved from finishing my business to wash my hands…

EeeeeeEEEEEEEEwwwwwWWWWWWW-eh! Mom make it GO AWAY!

I don’t feel like a baby complaining to mom, because I am GROSSED OUT!

But I am still a bit too much of a wimp to complain directly to him… But perhaps I will print out this picture and put it on his door or something…

"Please stop leaving hair in the bathroom... everywhere. Clean up after yourself... kthxbai!"

Just… Just– EUGH!

It’s so gross! DX

Has anyone else had roommates this gross? What do you DO about it?

His cleanliness gives me the heebee jeebies…

BLEGH!

"Bow ties are cool... THAT is NOT"

Happy Hermit Day!

Happy Hermit day everyone!

I figured that with the number of posts that are wishing you a happy Christmas, I would wait until the end of the day AFTER good ol’ Xmas to say Happy Hermit day!

Let this be a lesson to all who thought it would be a great idea to go to the mall today, that some people and families, like Lexy and mine, know that today is not actually the day to go out and try to get a deal.

Today is a great day to hang out with the family (AT HOME) and bask in the no-need-to-buy-more glow, and stay in your hovel cave hole home and embrace the hermit like tendencies that you usually bury in order to be social with friends.

To students, this is that same tendency that pops up around exam time that tells you to stay in and study and maybe spend some time huddled in your closet to hide from your textbooks.

To everyone else, please note that if you MUST go out and shop so soon after the Xmas holidays, the deals stay up for a while longer after today. They aren’t AS great, but you won’t get elbowed in the face, you won’t feel claustrophobic in the wide open expanse of the mall, and the employees at the store you’re at will be in a much better mood… most haven’t worked the day before, so they feel really lucky to miss the rush.

This is just a message.

I would have posted this earlier in the day, but I don’t think the people who need to read this would have read it in time anyway.

To all, Happy holidays and Happy Hermit Day!

Not this kind of hermit... though some may still feel a bit crabby 😀

Oreo Cakesters are Ruining my YouTube Experience

You know those stupid ads that go on before popular YouTube videos? The ones that you can’t skip?

Yes there are the ones that you have to wait 5 seconds for before you can choose to ‘skip this ad’ (and I usually don’t do that as those are the interesting ones… the interesting moves and video games and whatnot are COOL), but those pop up only occasionally.

I have seen so many of those as I’m waiting out my procrastination period, watching that little yellow bar at the bottom jump its slow way across the video screen, oftentimes with the volume off, and today I have been attacked by 6 Oreo Cakester commercials.

4 of them were different.

They are so irritating, and you can never skip the irritating ones.

Earlier I was watching one of my shows online, and the pre-show commercial thing (thankfully it was the 5 seconds=skip one) was for Tide.

I’m sure you’ve seen the one… it looks like it could be from a friggin horror film at first, with some creepy looking guy with a limp dragging something, and there’s bad music in the background… and then they show stretching, fading, and whatever of clothing, but  like the clothing is being tortured, and with the dramatic music and an angry seagull in the background making it sound tense and dramatic.

It’s an amusing commercial.

The first few times…

Then I started to put it on mute, because there’s only so many times you can listen to an angry seagull squeal and watch an ugly sweater get stretched before you get really sick of it and just want to watch your cartoon already.

Fellow fans would smack me for calling anime a cartoon, but anime is a cartoon. Manga is also a form of comic book.

Get over it.

But this commercial was on every episode I watched, and stupid megavideo sometimes popped up to say that I’ve watched so and so many minutes, please wait 30 minutes, and then I have to re-load it all and wait for the stupid video to quit it, and since the red button of “wait to see if you have to wait another 10 minutes before you can resume watching on megavideo” happens after the commercial, I have to go through it many more times.

I think the clock for megavideo is slow, as I took to timing myself. about 34ish minutes after it said o wait 30, I check, and it says “Please wait 4 more minutes” OR that 4 is changed to a 1 and I wonder WHY do they have that???

WHY can’t they just have an extra long loading process before showing the green “Press the sideways triangle of PLAY” button pops up to say go ahead.

So those two commercials are irritating me, but at least the Oreo cakesters have some amusing new ones that they’ve recently been attacking me with.

I like Oreos, but for some reason the cakesters make me think that perhaps I would feel an extreme case of nausea after eating one.

YouTube, stop it.

You too Megavideo, but at least ALL the ads you show are the 5sec=skip ones.

Thank You.

Pump up the awesome? NO.

I don’t think you realize quite how much you suck.

Dear Complaining Camper,

I am that person who you complained to the other day… Which one? Oh, well you know that complaint you had about there being too many holes in the beach?

Oh, you remember now?

Great.

Well, I just wanted to thank you for wasting my time, and causing me to have to explain to some other camp on the beach that no, it isn’t normally part of my job to have to shovel sand into the slight holes on the beach (read: not an actual hole, more like indentations), but have to do it because someone complained. Thank you for complaining for the beach not being flat.

Just so you know, you suck.

~Doodled93~

Dear Complaining Camper,

I’m the one who had to deal with your complaint today, when you complained about a toilet being dirty. Yes, you know the one.

Well, I went with my partner to the toilet in question, and found that it hadn’t even been used since we cleaned it. The seats were still down, and the new rolls of toilet paper hadn’t been used yet. We called to ask if it was the right toilet, Gate said yes, you had JUST complained.

We left, thinking you had seen it before it was cleaned, and were perhaps complaining about the massive amount of toilet paper someone had thrown on the floor, and had complained about it without realizing that it had been cleaned.

You complained again half an hour later, saying we hadn’t done anything about it.

You suck, I thought I’d let you know that.

~Doodled93~

Dear No-Aim,

I would like to know how you managed to get poop on all three parts of the toilet seat, and still manage to get it on the floor, one foot in front of the toilet.

As I was the one who had to clean all of it up, using a pressure washer, I feel I have a right to know just how bad your aim is, and to tell you that you suck.

You suck.

~Doodled93~

Dear Firecracker,

I don’t know if that’s what you use, or perhaps if you have a regular diet of gunpowder, but I would like to know why you are setting off firecrackers in the toilets to make there be poop splitters on the walls. Though there are no scorn marks, that is the only explanation for what I’m seeing here, and if you are not eating gunpowder or setting off firecrackers, please go see a doctor.

Also, you suck.

~Doodled93~

Gone, Gone, Going…? Now? No. … Now?

I am currently waiting for laundry to be done, and feeling alternating feelings (no duh) of chest constricting stress and  fluttery anxiety, and chest constricting anticipation and fluttery excitement.

I leave for Grundy Park tomorrow, probably at the crack of dawn should I ask Dad now, and I am starting and finishing my packing today.

Yes I’m late, but I’m a procrastinator almost by nature. I’m procrastinating waiting for laundry to be done, because a while ago, I had my laundry waiting for me to bring it upstairs, and it was sitting in front of our freezer, which was left open, and it leaked.

I moved my stuff after it got wet, and left it down there to be done again when the washer was next free.

Mold grew.

I washed it twice.

I am washing it again, to get the sour-ish smell from it before I go.

I am not packing my stuff into a suitcase, because my Mom says that it’d be easier to pack in the car if it were in these huge, 3fx1fx2f ish plastic bins, so I have a plastic bin in my room, in the hall outside of my room, one downstairs by my nearly-done laundry, and one in the front room of my house.

Scratch that, I have TWO (Three) in the front room, because I need one separate for sleeping things such as sheets and pj’s.

It feels very much so as if I should be going right now, but then the chest crushing gets tighter with the feeling of Holy-I’m-Not-DONE-PACKING! untill I reassure myself and my insane part that no, we aren’t leaving right yet.

And then the sane part of me thinks of something.

What if I forget something!!!

Insane hears this as well, and slaps Sane on the head.

It’s because we’re not done PACKING! Get to work we’ve got like an hour to get everything together and in the car!

 Sane runs into a wall.

DOOM!

No, we aren’t leaving untill tomorrow, I reassure myself. And Laundry cannot be rushed.

And so I stand in front of the Door of Panic with my trusty Gandalf Wizard Staff solidly blocking the way.

From myself.

*sigh* Am I sure that there is actually an insane side, and it’s not just me?

Yes. I just happen to be strongly influenced by myInsane side when writing. Every writer has this part of them, it just so happens that mine feels the need to talk to me occassionally.

Insane people are in Sane people, and neither part are going past me to the Panic Room, because a)nothing gets done there, and b) NONE SHALL PASS!

All LOTR Gandalf the Grey jokes and references aside, I shall finish the Laundry of Impending Doom, cut it down to be hidden away in the Boxes of Plastic Containment, sealed away untill they are needed to fight the foe called Nakedness.

Shoot I gotta find myself some nail clippers, and perhaps a few more pairs of wool work socks.

Did you know that Costco has awesome underwear on sale? You wouldn’t think so, but they are comfortable.

A while ago, how many days ago matters not, Mum brought me to Costco to stock up on food items that will help in my quest of survival for the coming 2 months.

Working at a park is different from working as a Ranger in many ways, and one of which is that we don’t have chefs to cook and buy our food.

 For the last couple of weeks Dad has been storing away chili and stew and hamburger patties in the freezer, either in sealed plastic bags or in Tupperware , so that for at least the first two weeks of no-trips-into-town-to-buy-food I might be able to survive. I am extremely thankful that we get a lot of freezer space at Grundy (everyone, not just me, though I’d like to believe I AM that special).

I will also be leaving with print out and digital recipes of such things as stew, easy stroganoff (which is not a loose, sexually active Swedish general), salsa-couscous chicken, and many-layered salads.

We bought juice, meat, some veggies, cookies (the important things), underwear (they’re nice 😀 Sane: Don’t SAY that! Insane: BWAHAHA!) , and a whole slew of bread for me to make my main source of sustenance for during the day: Sandwiches.

To the sound of Pocahontas’ “Savages”:

Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Hardly ever Eaten! Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Where is my Mayonnaise?!

Credited to my friends (from rangers) sister. Google Map Delta. It’s a place. They live there.      😀

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

No.

Food is packed away, and I think that I’ll go through the plastic bins tha I have already and sort out the mixes of shirts, sweaters, pants, and shorts from in them.

I will probably have way more than I need, but…

Rather have more than I need than not enough.

Right.

 BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IS FORGOTTEN???!!!

No. Grundy is 4 hours or so away, and the Parents will be visiting fairly regularly! Back!!! Back from the gates of Panic!

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

 So tomorrow I’m gone, or going, or whatever, and I’ll probably be freaking out.

By the end of the first week I’ll likely be fine, but then I’ll start being paranoid about what, exactly I’ll have forgotten.

Because I will have forgotten SOMETHING.

But that is edging around my Gandalf staff, (BWAHA!), so we shall move on.

I was procrastinating a bit earlier, reading one of the books I liberated from my Mom’s school (they have a better library, and because she’s a teacher there, she can take them out over the summer), called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. The link will bring you to his site on it.

It’s good.

Like, Really good.

Most times I can predict what will happen at the end of the book by the time I get through the first 3-5 chapters, and I had a bit of a feeling about what would happen, but so many things happened that promised a slightly different outcome, I couldn’t put it down.

Of course, since Lexy probably won’t be reading this untill I’m long gone, I can freely admit that instead of folding laundry a bit earlier, i was reading this. I put it away any time someone came down to the basement, and started fiddling with laundry.

I still got a lot done, even while reading it.

…Weird.

The dryer just made it’s “I’m-done” jingle noise (sounds a bit like a small part of an ice-cream truck’s jingle), and this is getting kind of long, so I’ll bid you all goodbye for now. Whether I post small segments about my work for the next 2 months depends on if the claim to internet access is true or not.

Ciao!

~Doodled93~

Insane: THERE’S NO MORE TIME!

P.S. Afterthought: It is now about 10:28 pm, and I pretty much have everything packed, but I look at my 2 bins of clothing, my 1/4 bin of work clothes, and my slightly bursting bin of sleeping stuff (it has a sleeping bag and pillow in it), and I feel I am missing a lot. Clothing-wise. I know I am not anywhere done my toiletries packing, as i currently have only JUST put the all-important nail clippers in my tinier toiletries bin, and I have no swim towel, no shower towel, and all of my electronics (including an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT digital alarm clock) are scattered around my house. Mostly uncharged too. Anyone else finish packing and look at your stuff and thing “nope. Not done.”? Also, pj’s is underlined in red, as well as bin. That is rediculous!

Preparing for Parkage: Getting it all Clean to get Dirty

I hate laundry.

I really and truly do.

It takes little snippets of time that add up.

It isn’t so much the actual doing of it, though it is a pain to have to set timers and get everything down there (especially if you put off laundry and have more than one basket load to do), but it’s the fact that it needs to be done, and that you have to put everything away afterwards.

It makes me sound like a lazy slob, but it’s the truth, and I’m sure that everyone at least has some days where the thought of doing laundry prompts a groan.

Laundry is a bit of a must at the moment, making sure that my work clothing is all packed and ready to go for on the 26th.

I must have at least five work shirts and 5 work pants, paired with at least three tank tops and three t-shirts. I must have a couple of sweaters and a few long-sleeved shirts as well, just in case the weather goes Wonky.

The weather network says that it’s supposed to be a warm summer, but Lexy worked at Sleeping Giant Park, and it started snowing partway through a canoe trip.

So that’s adding Long Johns to the list as well.

That’s just work clothing.

Pants from the side... most times they aren't as obvious as this, and just have the same colour as the pants material for patches. I go to TNT for my pants.

To clarify, work shirts are pretty much tan/other coloured button-up shirts that have sleeves. The buttons can be undone, and the sleeves can be rolled up when it’s hot. But it also means that you have the option of protecting your arms from bug bites, or from unexpected coldness. 😀

Work Pants have very simple requirement for me, and it’s something that a couple of the other girls at Rangers found out about after the unfortunate sound.

Work pants must have reinforcement patches on both the knees, and, as uncomfortable as it must sound, the crotch.

The unfortunate sound is the sound of ripped pants.

It’s really not great  when one of your work shirts is borrowed so that your buddy can cover the rip in her pants, and it’s not all that great having your bug spray/bug wipes used up because people spray it down the rips in their knees to attack bugs that have crawled in there.

So Laundry is the next part of Summer Parkage Prep.

Fun…

Why am I doing this again?

Oh, right, money, experience, and muscle buildup, as well as being paid for a camping trip…

Ciao and Zzzzz for now.

~Doodled93~

P.S. Props for this girl for going on a four-day camping trip when life was a bit too much, and for publicly apologizing when she gets back because she didn’t tell anyone and everyone thought she’d gone missing, sans id and wallet.