chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
When attempting to renew a state ID card, I discovered several things.

One, your ID renewal application absolutely stinks with Firefox. I had to switch to IE, which is full of security flaws, to get the various radio buttons to work.

Two, your capture widget does not work at *all* in Firefox, well beyond the button issues mentioned above. It was entirely unviewable, besides a brief mention of a capture widget frame when tabbing through. Unnecessarily repeating the next button instead of revealing the needed text is not helpful, or useful.

Three, even when in IE, your capture widget is unworkable. Half the time, checking the 'I am not a robot' box brings up a try again later message, claiming the computer may be running automatic queries. It is not. I am not an automaton; we have established this via checkbox already. When the widget does deign to function at all, attempting to play the audio for an audio challenge does not even fail. It does nothing. Neither does the download link provided, and the help button reveals a handful of keystrokes that are not compatible with a very common screenreader. I tried.

I'll deal with this at work tomorrow. If nothing else, I'll have somebody with working eyeballs who can click the damn clicky capture tiles for me. God, I hate being the default alpha tester for supposedly accessible tech... Also, the dependence on somebody sighted got old about twenty years ago.


chanter_greenie: a slightly faded picture of a three-legged torbie kitty cat with a lot of rust coloring in her fur (supermodel kitty)
Well, that was something of a bust, but not entirely so. Mom caught some sort of virus the day before we all headed up, not certain what, and proceeded to be (as is standard for her) a bit obsessive over it. Can't say I haven't got my own quirks - I brought my own pillow to the hotel, come on - but ugh, anyway. Put the dang thermometer away, lady. Between that, a snarl-off with one sister that eventually got resolved, a disagreement with one aunt over the same subject that also sorted itself out (still, suuuuuuck in both cases), and the fact that, between disinterested sibling and sick parent, the fair didn't happen... ugh. I know I'm being whiny and entitled here for a second, but gosh darn it, I was really looking forward to the fair this year. I haven't been since college. Frak. ... Next year.

On the upside, there was kayaking on the Eau Claire River, not a bad time, there was a bonfire, there was a fish fry, there was catching up with relatives - it's amazing how harmlessly juvenile we can all get when telling stories after dark, and even I appreciated it :) - and here's a warm fuzzy, there were new members of the family. My aunt and uncle in Weston are watching, and are currently sorting out the paperwork so they can officially foster, two little girls. these are my aunt's great nieces, the daughters of one of her nieces. Their mother is... in a significant amount of trouble, addiction-wise+legally, and their father is not in the picture for similar reasons. Two sweet little pre-kindergarten kiddos needed a loving home, and C and S stepped up without a flinch. :) These girls are adorable. They and Laura had a ball zooming all over the yard, as they're all of an age - five, four and four. I know there was a Laura-dragon, a Naila-bear, maybe a Naila-lion, and possibly a Bree-bear at one point, judging by all the rarrrr!ing going on. :) The two newbies were fascinated with my cane, and with the general fact that I couldn't see. That kind of interest in my disability does not bother me at all, quite the opposite, and the older one's reaction to my impromptu cane demo was 'That's cool!' :D That segued into one aunt telling the story of Bosco the guide dog, and how he led me around, couched in terms little kids could understand. Of course I joined in, and get this. When I said he loved everyone, and that I miss him every day, the older girl said that he sounded like the best dog ever (I agreed), and that he was one of the stars in the sky. For background, their grandmother (my aunt's mother, unrelated to and unknown to me) occasionally takes them to church, and Naila (the older girl) is very interested in religion. So this was not a reference to Sirius the star. This was stars equaling angels. I almost cried, and later gave Naila a hug for that, because oh my goodness what an incredibly sweet thing to say. ... And got the younger, Bree, immediately looking for a hug too. XD I know they're not technically related to me, being my uncle's wife's great nieces, but as far as I'm concerned, I have two more cousins than I did three days ago.

I won't even get into Abby (cousin) and I squeeing over Broadway, or Nick (also cousin) and the outcome of a conversation we had weeks ago. Or my union electrician uncle and I talking politics. ... I could go on.

So, not entirely a bust, though family can really get up my nose in certain circumstances... and I do wish I'd made the fair. Dang it. Next year I'm going with or without anyone else. Dad and I took off early this morning, not wanting to hang around the hotel - Mom and kid sister left later, in kid sister's car. Got back to Madison before noon. Glad I went up? Yes, mostly. Mostly. Glad to be home, shards yes, which I never thought I'd say about a trip to Marathon County.

Needing a couple more days to recover from the weekend? Um, yeah. Crud.
chanter_greenie: a bright blue sky and fluffy clouds (Wisconsin summer: boundless friendly sky)
Wisconsin Valley Fair, here I come. :D I'm off to Wausau for the weekend. Informal family reunion, fish fry, kayaking partial daytrip, baseball game, and a run to the fair that was a staple of my childhood and teenage years! :D I fully expect to spend more money than I probably should at the fair. I only wish I could sleep on my uncle's couch instead of in a hotel... ick... Bringing a pillow is the best I can do. Hotels. :(

Back on Sunday!
chanter_greenie: a lilac tree in bloom (Wisconsin spring: lilac season)
Took today off, because I was offered it and pounced; I badly, badly needed it, what with K the awesome coworker's family tragedy throwing everything at work for an understandable loop. That poor woman and kiddos... For explanation, K's husband died unexpectedly on Valentine's Day, of a lightning fast and almost always lethal illness. :( :( I do not in the slightest resent K being out, because what kind of class A prime example of a jerk would I be if I did? But wow do I ever need the vacation day! So, had last Friday off and did absolutely zilch. Have today off as well, and have already done considerably more.

Cut for minor, non-graphic medical detail of the dentist-type variety. )

Now, there shall be more coffee, rare daytime weekday DX, and later on, cheering on the Badgers as they beat Florida! One can hope... Well, if you're me, one can hope her bracket isn't busted by the end of the night!

At least this tooth isn't busted. I know, that's a reach for wordplay. :) Still.
chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
75,000 to 100,000 people at Capitol Square this afternoon. Diverse, entirely peaceful crowd: Women, men, nonbinary folks, multiracial, multiethnic and multilingual (languages counted so far today=3: English, Spanish and Brazilian Portuguese), babies to seniors. I got a pleasant surprise when Milwaukee's own righteous firebrand of a state senator, Senator Taylor, was introduced! :) Music, poetry, spontaneous organization... and zero ill will seen anywhere. Plenty of calling certain officials out on their horribleness, but no evil intent. *That* is how we rally, Mr. Donald [crude potty humor/cultural reference mashup redacted]. Expect more of the same.

I've missed this. I shouldn't have done, considering the circumstances that lead to protests in both 2011 and now in the first place, but... I have. The atmosphere today had the same magical quality as the iconic snow rally we held, nearly six years ago. Let's hope that atmosphere, and the crowds creating it, continue. I for one am crossing my fingers. And turning out, of course.
chanter_greenie: a panther being stared at by multiple other animals (this panther has been to Colorado)
Go ahead, Mr. Donald J. Duck Dump, he whose name in spoonerism crossed with amateurish potty joke is, so says the lovely [personal profile] meimichan, an insult to innocent duck shit. Go ahead, Mr. Tronald Dump. Go ahead, Mr. Sexual Predator, Mr. Shameless Tax Evader, Mr. Road Company Understudy of Harry Lime, Mr. Fractional Third of the Third Man. Go ahead, pal. Hit me. I can take it.

I'm a terrier with an idea, just like my own character Kendra. I am a stickler, just like James Madison, for certain convictions. My conviction, not quite in mirror of his but close enough, is equality and dignity for every person. People are people are people. Everyone has a story. I've been this stubborn since the idea of people not being allowed to believe what they wanted to believe set my blood boiling with an emotion I had no name for. I was in Mrs. Rose's class in the first grade. I was seven. I've been this stubborn since the phrase 'slave pen' set me so aflame with inarticulate righteous anger that I had to isolate it on the page and reread it, just to savor the acid and the horror of the rage I felt. I was roughly ten, and learning about the Underground Railroad for the first time. I've been this stubborn since I was maybe eight, and utterly bewildered by the idea of war in the countries in the news (Somalia, I'm fairly sure it was) being motivated by religious conflict. I've been this stubborn since I realized I was the weird one, and that respect as a competent human was novel. I was barely walking, barely using a cane. I've been this stubborn ever since I was a kid falling in love with Resistance stories and Underground Railroad stories and Revolutionary stories, secret codes and midnight rides and discreet exchanges of information, and I never. grew. up.

So hit me with your best damn shot, Mr. Duck Dump. Sybil Ludington fought for ideals better than yours. So did Deborah Sampson, and Dr. Joseph Warren, and the legendary Iron Brigade of Wisconsin, and 506's Easy Company, and my grandfather, my dad's dad, in Belgium with Patton, and the segregated officers washed ashore in Saint Lawrence, Newfoundland, and Washington himself and yes, I went there. Hit me, pal. Grab my queer self by the pussy. Black my eyes, break my nose, mark me up and down. I can take it. I will take it. Because I can take it where others cannot. I refuse to lie down or shut up. Go ahead, take a swing at me. Make me a target. You have got nothing on me for sheer, homespun, righteous blue resolve. I will get up again, and I will shame you as I stand. Go ahead, have fun trying to knock the dumpy little blind lady down. You'll fail.

You will look like an idiot when you fail.

And I'll laugh in your face as I square up with you. And again. And again. And I will. not. stop.

May have been the losing side, this time. Still fully convinced it was the right one.
chanter_greenie: a Pringles can with the words 'you can't write just one' written across it (drabbles are like pringles)
Wow, I have not updated this darn thing in a loooong time. Right, fixing that! I could also say write, fixing that, but more on that in a moment.

I truly am still here. This bloody buggering election is going to be the death of me, and no matter what the battleground maps and the polls suggest, I am still tinkle-in-my-big-girl-shorts scared of a certain possible outcome, and will be so until November 9! In other news, still working far too much and commuting for far too long the better to do so, still reading tons and tons of fanfiction and original work, and still attempting to write. And, with that last, finally succeeding with something original of my own, as of tonight.

800+ words of lyrical poetry, finally, and it doesn't feel entirely like it's done yet. If I say 'run its course', I make it sound like an infection, which it isn't. Writing this one did feel something like lancing... uh, never mind. If anything, the subject matter is a bit of an affliction to be enjoyed--ooh, would that be considered saudade? Anyway, the poem may be sponsorable, but it's incredibly personal, so... hmm. I'll think about that, once it's properly done and edited. The tentative, working title is 'The Lamentations of Old Money'. It does not reference what it sounds like it references, for the record.

Now, however, I think I am going the frak to bed! This afternoon saw me rather overdo it on coffee (not a giant problem) and sugar (much more of one) due to an abundance of Halloween candy at work. I proceeded to be super wired, came home and wrote like the proverbial wind, and now that I'm slowly mellowing, I really should curl up before my brain chemistry overrides the sleep disorder meds and decides to keep me awake all night. I do *not* need that, as work performance tomorrow will take a severe nosedive if it happens, and all other gripes about my job aside, I rather like being able to pay the rent.
chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
The first half of that subject line is fairly self-explanatory. I'm still alive! I'm also grateful for a looooong New Year's weekend, the snowstorm we got on Monday, and marvelous radio folks. :)

The second part of that subject also fairly easily explains itself. Last night, I had what was pretty definitely the mellowest New Year's Eve I've had in some time. There were pasta and breadsticks, there was a shortwave pirate down on 80M playing song requests (including mine!) and there was reading up to and through the second American midnight without even realizing the clock had clicked over. Then I fell over and zonked. Works for me!

Only one definite guideline/resolution/whatever for 2016, at least that I'm willing to write down at the moment: Write and hopefully find sponsors for an armload of stories!

In that vein, if anyone's got particular characters they'd like to see more of from me, let me know? I can't say this is a genuine prompt call, as I'm not sure whether or not the muses will respond, but maybe any or all ideas given will spark something.
chanter_greenie: a lilac tree in bloom (Wisconsin spring: lilac season)
I actually have one of these, now! I'm amazed I got this far. Fics available for funding by donation are listed below. I'm borrowing from the ever-marvelous [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith here by listing the name of the person who prompted the story. I've also learned about rate calculations by following her examples and links. For information on the orange!verse, and the Schrodinger's Heroes project that spawned it, see her menu page.

Just for my own sake, if a person donates for one of these fics, could they please send a private message or drop a comment or... something of that sort? I've never done this from the writerly side before, and I have no idea if PayPal will send a message of its own when a donation comes in. Edited to add: It does send a message! I still have no objections to people dropping a line, though. I don't often equate usernames with real names, especially if I don't know you RL.

Miller's Speculation
prompted by [personal profile] thnidu, with a hat tip to Professor Virgil Miller, University of Wisconsin - Whitewater. Sponsored by R. A. Olivero, a very old RL friend
Original ficlet. The quirkiest cautionary tale/moment of ironic justice you ever did see.

"Meteor Scatter"
prompted by < [personal profile] perfectworry, Sponsored by [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
Orange!verse. Quinn has nothing at all against other people's stars.

Tuning Up
sponsored by [personal profile] mama_kestrel
Orange!verse, several years before the events of "Adjacent Universe Splatter". Rebroadcasts to the northern States started first.

Autumn On The Oak Savanna
prompted and sponsored by [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
Original ficlet. The scent of newly-harvested fields in the fall... and quite a bit more besides.

Spring Is Honest
Written in trade with [personal profile] helgatwb, who asked for a piece about early spring. I obliged, with Wisconsin in late March.

Musical Gift
Prompted by [personal profile] siliconshaman, sponsored by W. Blondeau, an RL friend
Orange!verse. "Someone's got to speak up. I'm having fun while I do it." Meet Eric.

Dual Path Echo
prompted in a roundabout way by [personal profile] siliconshaman and [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith, sponsored by W. Blondeau
Orange!verse. To Helen, love is verb, noun and natural state of being.

Working The Bands
On both sides of the border, people are rolling up their sleeves.
Orange!verse, $43.

Orange!verse. Il est bien, sa bon, even when it ain't. Meet Doc and Sister.

In The Clear
sponsored by R. A. Olivero, an RL friend
Orange!verse, immediately post Open Carrier and Carrier Wave (both still in progress). Dat is niet alleen uit vanavond. Eric meets a refugee.

sponsored by W. Blondeau
Orange!verse, set just before Cat's In The Cradle. "It's for my girlfriend." A trans* citizen of America (recurring character) gets by.

Thy Father And...
There are two sides to what Kendra's inherited.
Orange!verse, $5.

Signal Strength
sponsored by W. Blondeau
Orange!verse. Concurrent with the events of Cat's In The Cradle. At eighteen, Kendra gets an education by radio.

Keeping A Logbook
sponsored by W. Blondeau
Orange!verse. These are the things Sandy carries.

Jammed Transmissions
Every refugee has a story of their own.
TW: visceral imagery (current), violence, police brutality, racism, homophobia, harmful institutional reactions to neurodiversity (all past, current environment supportive)
Orange!verse, $41.

Clandestine Stations
What makes the local Waxahachie team help with rebroadcasts to the southern States?
Orange!verse, $10.50.

Just what gets written in safehouse fridge notes, anyway?
TW: brief but vividly mentioned symptoms of illness
Orange!verse, $25.

sponsored by [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
Orange!verse. Sharing space in Canadian safehouses is far from uneventful.

Legal ID
Prompted by [personal profile] ellenmillion. Carlos doesn't envy the lawyers one bit, but...
TW: references to child abuse and violence (past, current environment supportive)
Orange!verse, $11.50.

sponsored by
[personal profile] fyreharper
Orange!verse. "We're geese, not coyotes." Carlos and Quinn make a run to Detroit.

Parliament Hill's Reply
Released for free post the 2016 U.S. election.
Orange!verse. In Brampton, Leigh muses on Lady Liberty's inscription and the people who cross the border.

Essential Components
Which items are vital at the safehouse in Brampton, and why?
Orange!verse, $39.

Open Carrier Part 1
sponsored by [personal profile] mama_kestrel
Orange!verse. Kendra makes a decision.

Open Carrier Part 2
Kendra gets rolling.
Orange!verse, $5.

Open Carrier Part 3
Kendra spends her first day and night on the road.
Orange!verse, $7.

Open Carrier Part 4
Kendra makes it to Detroit.
Orange!verse, $6.

Lighted Display
Posted for free. Orange!verse. This little light of--wait just a second.

Heaven Is Subjective
sponsored by [personal profile] technoshaman
Orange!verse. "People still hate up here," Sandy says.

Trusted Voice
You need a couple of passable musicians and a lot of willing hearts. How Leigh does what she does.
Orange!verse, $12.50.

Arco Iris
Free verse poem, not part of any specific universe. Someone asks a soundmage for a magical rainbow. She provides as only she can. This poem was the un-posted inspiration of a rainbow/color challenge a while ago.
Original, $5

Summer To The Winter Country
Prompted and sponsored by [personal profile] technoshaman. Original. Summer might be sand.

The Senses Of Same
Prompted by [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith. Hope, wonder and hunched shoulders.
Original, $9.50.

Bring Back The Wonder
Sponsored by McSushi, an RL friend. Original. Just what would it take?

The Lamentations of Old Money
What Jennifer wants fits on a two-sided coin.
Original, $23.00.
chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
Just dropping a note that there's a new piece for sponsorship listed. 'The Senses Of Same' is me doing the Wisconsin author thing again, this time about winter. This fic prompted by [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith as well as one of the most bitterly cold days we've had in some time. Brrrrrr!
chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
Eight or more inches of snay last evening and throughout the day today, the Superbowl (deflated football Patriots, pfft), and oh yeah, an amateur radio exam for multiple people here in Madison.

I passed! :D I haven't been issued a callsign yet, but I'm officially a technician class ham radio operator. :D :D :D

On calling home tonight, the conversation went like this:
Me: I passed. I'm a ham!
Mom: Well I knew *that*.
Me: *cracks up laughing* I knew that was coming!

*has the warm fuzzies* I still can't half believe it.
chanter_greenie: a house and road blanketed in snow (Wisconsin winter: buried in snay)
This original fic has been prompted and sponsored by [personal profile] technoshaman. The comments beneath Spring Is Honest sparked my muse, and the rest is natural history. :)

Summer To The Winter Country )

Once again, I've done the Wisconsin author thing. The imagery here is drawn from my own experiences with lakes, rivers and local beaches.
chanter_greenie: a lilac tree in bloom (Wisconsin spring: lilac season)
This fic is written in trade for an icon made, unprompted, by [personal profile] helgatwb. Thank you very much!

She (? correct me if that pronoun is wrong) asked for a piece dealing with early spring and early morning. Hopefully this fits the bill.

Spring Is Honest )

That's the second time I've done the Wisconsin author thing in response to a prompt. For the record, many of the underlying images in that piece are drawn straight from yours truly's childhood.
chanter_greenie: a blue-shaded dyed egg (not enough blue in the world)
This icon is very apt. :)

I voted. Voter 1616 in ward 53, city of Madison, at approximately 5:50 tonight. There was a huuuuge line of registering voters, and the place was quite busy besides.

Fingers frakking crossed. Tonight may be beer revisited, as in I'll probably end up drinking at least one.
chanter_greenie: a Pringles can with the words 'you can't write just one' written across it (drabbles are like pringles)
I have a new piece on my sponsorable list. It's a shorter one, and it's closer to straight up deliberately lyrical poetry. It also takes the Statue of Liberty's inscription and runs circles with it.

I wrote something! :D Apparently, my muse liked some aspect of tonight. I hope it wasn't just the glass of beer, because I am not making a habit of drinking one of those. Not more than once every couple weeks, anyway.

It was a pretty darn decent beer, though.
chanter_greenie: a bright blue sky and fluffy clouds (Wisconsin summer: boundless friendly sky)
I'm also feeling crappy for reasons not related to what I'm about to write, I've had another one of those 'lost weekend' days due to stupid sleep disorder issues, and for crying out loud (not quite yet, but I wouldn't rule it out) I need to out with this.

I still can't believe that Casey died. I never thought of him as old enough to die, or getting that way. The part of me who'll be an obsessive ten-year-old forever is in floods. This is all about radio and not at all about cartoons, and good gosh, speaking of, didn't that Shaggy voice hurt his own? Ow!

This next comes mostly as a copy/paste of a comment I wrote elsewhere. I can't say it any better now, just elaborate on it.

I knew him first and foremost as the voice of kindly musical authority on many, many a Sunday night, and quite a few Saturdays as well - there were three or four countdowns on the air at different times, and in my part of the Midwest, we got them all. I was absolutely addicted to the top 40 charts from ten years of age to twelve or so. I can't even begin to count how many hours I spent on the swings in the backyard, Walkman on my head and countdown in my ears, or in the blue recliner in the living room with the stereo tuned to a signal that slooooowly faded in to perfect (WIXX from Green Bay), or upstairs, sitting bolt upright on my bed in the dark, absorbed in the show. Leeza Gibbons was nice, Rick Dees was fun if a little raunchy, but Casey was something else again. I have bits of musical trivia forever in my brain thanks to him, several hundred mid '90's songs, including artist details and chart positions, not to mention the details of the sort of fantasy world only a ten-year-old could dream up, populated by musical artists and fairy folk, full of ridiculous buildings and vehicles and of course, a dozen shameless self-inserts. Casey was always the good witch figure in that world, including stylized mental image (blue eyes, pale skin, dark hair, ridiculous red wool coat) that I only found out years later was waaaaay off, to David Perry's (occasional countdown stand-in, to less than stellar effect) evil usurper who must be vanquished so the rightful ruler could reclaim his seat. ... I was a strange little kid. :) To be honest, I was an obsessive, still am, with a gigantic imagination. Again, still am. I won't go into the details of the world I mentally created, because some of them are very much cringe-worthy now. But it was the world I lived in, sometimes to the exclusion of the outside, at that age. It wasn't necessarily healthy for me to be doing, and my parents called me on it at least once, but it happened anyway.

Later on, call it fifteen or so, I jumped the other way; I recognized just how obsessed I'd been and mentally blacklisted much of what I'd been so wild about. I never said I wasn't a creature of extremes. He scared me for a while, unnerved me. That was all on me, not on him. Sometimes I still have a knee-jerk 'ack! no!' reaction to the music and the stories I experienced at eleven, but at least now I can recognize and squash it.

I owe him a thank you. The ten-year-old who's still part of me and probably still plenty visible in me owes him a thank you. For being the benevolently knowledgeable voice on the air whose worst turns of phrase might have included gasp! God, eew! sex or whoa! hell (the behind-the-mic tirades that have since gone viral squick me out, because I still can't comfortably imagine him swearing), for being someone who came across as being as invested in music and radio as I was, for being a far away friend to a weird little girl in Wisconsin whose actual friends were few and far between.

I can't thank him, now. That's going to take a while to process.

I've never been great at keeping my feet on the ground. Sorry, Casey. But I've been reaching for the stars, the actual ones, since I can remember. I can do that much.

I think I might cry now.
chanter_greenie: a lilac tree in bloom (Wisconsin spring: lilac season)
I could get married, if I wanted to. I could get married by a Justice of the Peace here in Dane County, and who cares if both brides are wearing skirts and calling it good? I could have my great huge reception under a Fond Du Lac County summer sky, overflowing the whole back yard and forget the caterers, everybody bring a dish to pass and nobody burn what you're grilling. I could get married, if I were so inclined.

Holy crap. It's still sinking in, even a day and a half later.
chanter_greenie: an older house and surrounding autumn scenery (Wisconsin autumn: smells like fall)
This ficlet was both prompted and sponsored by the lovely [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith. Her prompt 'the gold dust scent of newly-harvested fields in the fall' inspired a piece that became nothing short of a love note to southeastern Wisconsin. Here 'tis.

Autumn ON The Oak Savannah )

I have my first sponsored fic. Eeeeeee eeeee! Bedanct, Ysabet.
It got better. It's amazing how things improve when you start being of use, rather than just a trainee.

You should've heard the collective loud groooooan when it was discovered we were gasp! shock! out of coffee in the office. :) I wasn't a huge part of said groan, but I did mutter something colorful while facepalming.

Off to work again, and I never fully understood the thank God it's Friday saying until now.
chanter_greenie: Commander Seth Goddard of Space Cases fame (SC: Goddard - do the best they can)
Acclimating is going to take as long as I feared it would, isn't it? God, these twelve-hour days (counting bus trips and lunch) are killing me. So far it's come home, eat something, try to chill but count every minute of free time and therefore enjoy it less, crash. I want to be a contributing member of the community, but the fuck was I thinking?

Work itself is fine. Training is the hard part, and I know it'll get to be less of a slog once I'm actually doing my job, but lord almighty, I see why people get old before their time. I know, I sound like a lazy sod. Everybody has the same sort of day, *sigh*. But God, just the length of it is getting to me. Laaaaazy pampered sod, I know. Ugh.

Going away now, before I get any more whiny. Back later.



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