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Apr. 11th, 2010 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstorm...not that predictability is a bad thing, though I understand popularly it's supposed to be a boring trait. Without some form of predictability all you have is static. Predictability whispers of an underlying order to things, of the ability to someday understand what's going on and tease reasons and structure out. It's reassuring.
I'm 'home'-- an empty house with an air mattress for the three-hour show quarantine, though I'll likely sleep here tonight. It actually feels very good to be somewhere nearly empty, I have been so busy that external simplicity (always soothing) is really the only alternative to having my raw nerves hammered on constantly. There has been a LOT of interpersonal in my life recently-- in addition to spending long weekends in 24-hour company, frequently in large groups; to working in public places; and to keeping busy with people in the evenings I've had a whole lot of poly stuff happen in a short period of time, a lot of dramatic interpersonal confusion, and I haven't had any time to myself or down-time, very little sleep, and astonishingly poor food stuff (one meal a day + beef jerky is not self-care).
I'm doing really well given all that, I've come through, I'm a little precarious but not unhappy. I'm supposed to be at the new place tonight to unload a half-ton of rat food just before eleven when quarantine time's up, which would mean a trip out there and back again, but at the moment I might ask Angus to do it for me. I'm having trouble maintaining body temperature, which mans I shouldn't be out in the night hauling things instead of sleeping.
I realise I am really very high-functioning sometimes, but I don't see it because my perfectionism seems to bleed over into that as well. If I don't do absolutely everything there is to be done, perfectly well and in the most efficient manner possible, then I just suck as a human being. I mean, yeah, I don't believe it to say, but I'm pretty sure that's fuelling a lot of this ridiculous scheduling.
Speaking of scheduling, May's weekends are full with the exception of one weekend I may well ditch the event in the interests of sanity. It looks like: scarification, cast party, rattery housewarming & ginger beer making, work weekend, housewarming & ginger beer consuming. June's half full: masquerade and Idaho road trip to a show. July's half full. September is half-full.
Wow.
I would say more, but the sound of my own voice needs to fall silent right now. Angus is out picking up dinner, and when I stop thinking the only sound in the room will be the dryer. There will be peace, and I will be smiling.
I'm 'home'-- an empty house with an air mattress for the three-hour show quarantine, though I'll likely sleep here tonight. It actually feels very good to be somewhere nearly empty, I have been so busy that external simplicity (always soothing) is really the only alternative to having my raw nerves hammered on constantly. There has been a LOT of interpersonal in my life recently-- in addition to spending long weekends in 24-hour company, frequently in large groups; to working in public places; and to keeping busy with people in the evenings I've had a whole lot of poly stuff happen in a short period of time, a lot of dramatic interpersonal confusion, and I haven't had any time to myself or down-time, very little sleep, and astonishingly poor food stuff (one meal a day + beef jerky is not self-care).
I'm doing really well given all that, I've come through, I'm a little precarious but not unhappy. I'm supposed to be at the new place tonight to unload a half-ton of rat food just before eleven when quarantine time's up, which would mean a trip out there and back again, but at the moment I might ask Angus to do it for me. I'm having trouble maintaining body temperature, which mans I shouldn't be out in the night hauling things instead of sleeping.
I realise I am really very high-functioning sometimes, but I don't see it because my perfectionism seems to bleed over into that as well. If I don't do absolutely everything there is to be done, perfectly well and in the most efficient manner possible, then I just suck as a human being. I mean, yeah, I don't believe it to say, but I'm pretty sure that's fuelling a lot of this ridiculous scheduling.
Speaking of scheduling, May's weekends are full with the exception of one weekend I may well ditch the event in the interests of sanity. It looks like: scarification, cast party, rattery housewarming & ginger beer making, work weekend, housewarming & ginger beer consuming. June's half full: masquerade and Idaho road trip to a show. July's half full. September is half-full.
Wow.
I would say more, but the sound of my own voice needs to fall silent right now. Angus is out picking up dinner, and when I stop thinking the only sound in the room will be the dryer. There will be peace, and I will be smiling.
