Quit Now and CAKE Will Be Served Immediately. [Photos]

I have been very boring this week.

Spent last night competing in the Hunger Games as a were-owl. Flying is fun, trying to screw everyone else over to get sponsors and stay alive isn't.

Ploughed through all 47 chapters of a FANTASTIC piece of Transformers fanfic, gardened a bit and edited less.

Nothing really worth writing home about.

If we have good enough weather, you'll get a 'Garden Update' photopost next week. I've begun Mission: Rescue Maggie (Free the magnolia tree from the embrace of creeper and overgrown hedge.) and the epic task of tackling the horribly overgrown section between the grape vines and the 'Play Lawn'.

Hoooo boy.

Kerys gave me more 'Put everything in a box, tie a string on it and push it away' advice this week.

I said I didn't really have anything to talk about because I've gone back into Denial Mode and started pushing everything away and not thinking about it.

"What are you pushing away?"

I DON'T KNOW.

 I HAVE BEEN MAKING A CONSCIOUS EFFORT TO NOT THINK ABOUT IT.

/facedesk

Today was my last peaceful Saturday without VonFishburger. She's back next week, which is Neptune's last official week. (He's on 'Casual' roster until November)

FUN TIMES AHEAD!

kill me now

Have some cat photos and sunset photos to make up for lack of posting this week:

Dralion still fits in her scratchy-post.

But she likes to hide under the clotheshorse if we have to dry stuff on it.

Bitch stole my blanket.

Um. . . Yeah.

There are 'Cat Highway' holes in all the hedges.

We had this utterly GLORIOUS sunset a few weeks ago. Hoary bitch of a mission to capture it's true glory, but I tried.

Aaaaaand I'm spent.

~Peri

Nothing Here, Move Along

Right now I'm burying myself in reading FanFic as a distraction and a way to remind myself to edit.

The editing isn't going very well.

You know me. Works best when under pressure and cornered like a rat in a trap -.-;

Oh well, slow progress is better than no progress.

I think.

DAMMIT it's raining outside so Dralion has flipped the empty washing basket over and is drumming on the back of it.

Pain in the ass. She has a whole basket of toys but has to play with the washbasket.

Work has been tolerable, mainly due to lack of certain trouble-sources.

Saturday was almost peaceful.

VonFishburger is off work to deal with lambing on her farm, and Polly has the week off.

So I didn't have to deal with EITHER of their tantrums and/or tears.

BLISS.

Unfortunately, Awesomeboss had to come in and deal with Seafood when VFB hadn't taught her ANYTHING about the department.

Rumour is she's not taking the demotion to 2IC very well.

She got booted out of the last 2 departments she was manager of because the staff said "Get rid of her or we walk", and now she has totally annihilated the Seafood department.

It went from 4-5 staff to being merged with the Deli.

Houston, I think we've got a problem here.

Neptune and a few others who have Seafood experience showed Awesomeboss what needed done, and with her usual (scary, Terminator-like) efficiency she was back in Deli by 1pm filling up the cheesebar and meatbar.

Sunday was an understaffed fiasco, as per usual.

With both Seafood Dude and VonFishBurger off, Neptune is the ony trained seafood person on so he pulled 0700-2000.

I bought communal lollies, coz we fucking needed them.

Yesterday was fairly average, but tonight Chatterbox is slicing so I'm going to be out front with Jeri. She has gotten SO MUCH WORSE in the last week it's not even funny.

For example: She has picked up Polly's trick of turning off the oven when things are finished cooking and then ignoring it until someone else deals with it. Which can take a while since it is assumed that the person who turns the oven off is going to deal with what's in it and you can continue the job you were already doing.

If pies/drumsticks/chickens cool down past 85*c we have to bin them. (Re-heating them is a health hazard and everything but the pies end up looking FOUL)

Just; fuck. Tonight is gonna be a mission.

~Peri

Long Vlog and Mother Rant

Have a long bitchy unlisted vlog.

It will be triggering because I'm raging about the retarded "Diet" of a girl we've stolen from checkouts.



Yesterday before we went to get groceries Mum spent 20mins pointing out that I need to open curtains (Bedroom window that faces directly into neighbour's kitchen) and mop the floors and weed and mow lawns and and and and.

Last night I was woken up after 3hrs by major crampage. I couldn't handle the maternal unit today so I tried to tell Mum that we couldn't do the garden today because the only time I could get at the gym was in the afternoon.

She rang me ACTUALLY WHINING about how she'll have "nothing to do until 3 o'clock" (Its 12pm now) and how she can come round and pull weeds when I'm not here etc etc.

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL LIVING FUCK, WOMAN?!?

You're FIFTY FUCKING YEARS OLD AND YOU SOUND LIKE A TEENAGE BOY.

GROW THE FUCK UP ALREADY.

It's called a hobby, get one that doesn't involve smoking weed or harassing your children.

Fucking hell.

The temptation to move overseas and sever all contact is becoming overwhelming.

~Peri

Shitstorm

Well. The weekend.

It was a fucking fiasco.

I kinda accidentally got Polly fixated on the word "Shambles", too. At least it has stopped her singing 'Moneymoneymoneymoney, mon-ney!" over and over and over. Mixed blessings.

Saturday was a nightmare, with Chatterbox off sick with the stomach virus that is making the rounds and Seafood Dude off for 6 weeks because he punched a wall and broke his hand in 2 places.

I'm guessing he either ragequit a game or had another argument with his partner.

So VonFishSticks thought it would be a good idea to get a person from Checkouts over to do Deli and Seafood closedown by themselves when they'd never worked in the department before.

I AM TEN BILLION PERCENT DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT.

Polly stayed an extra 1.5hrs so things actually got done properly. You fucking BEAUTY!

Seafood Dude had a the gall to text me on Saturday night saying "So I'm drinking with [my Ex]'s first girlfriend" to which I replied "So you didn't break your drinking arm then, or are you ambidrinkstrous? :p" instead of "Why do you think I give a shit?"

He said "I'll cope" and I ignored him.

I'm getting really sick of his deliberately triggering, attention-seeking hypochondria.

First he had ADHD, then it was ADD, then it was Dysthymia, ADHD again, then BiPolar after Jaq got back from Australia.

(Jaq's full DX now is BiPolar 2, Borderline Personality Disorder and Paranoid Hallucenations)

I'm sick of that guy's shit. The sympathy cow ran dry a while back. Saying triggering shit to someone you KNOW has issues themselves in order to get some fucking sympathy?

NOT FUCKING COOL.

Example: Talking constantly about how he wants to bun himself on the wrapping machine and showing you where he deliberately burned himself when you're obviously having a freak-out.

It's a constant and consistent behaviour that has managed to alienate the entire staff of the store.


I have blotted most of Saturday out, except from the vaguest outlines of VonFishSticks' juvenile tantrums, the Polly-tears and stroppy they triggered and me having a freakout that lead to a SH incident in the toilets.

Yesterday I started work with palpitations and ended up having 45min of feeling like there was a rat in my chest chewing it's way out through my left boob.

I'm becoming increasingly pissed off with none of this chest pain/stomach shit/dizzyness not actually DOING anything.

Just. . . FUCK YOU!

Tonight is NOT going to be fun.



Or become a cat lady.

Or acquire alpacas and train them to bite on command.

~Peri

MHS Rant and Whining

Talking to Kerys today left me feeling like I was trying to have a conversation with the news report on TV.

I explained how it felt like distraction had turned to avoidance then denial and now the denial is falling out from under me.

She said that avoiding thinking about things that stress me out (Like the nightmare situation at work) is a good thing and I shouldn't worry about it.

I told her I hadn't been able to eat 'properly' (As in eat what I want when I want it without having to consider whether or not my stomach will reject it or I'll get reflux) for about a month now.

She asked if I'd weighed myself.

HA HA FUCKING HA. AS IF I'D TELL YOU, BITCH.

I honestly haven't been. I think about it, but I seriously can't handle scale mind-games right now. I'm just going to merrily go on assuming I'm the weight of a newborn Blue Whale and not let definite numbers tempt me into giving up on food altogether.

It's tempting enough as it is with everything tasty coming back to show me what it's like with acid mixed in.

Information I did NOT want, thank you very fucking much.

If I had wanted to know then I would have started spewing my guts out ON PURPOSE.

Did you know the pH of your stomach acid is 1? That's basically battery acid.

Yes there is a part of me kicking myself for not taking advantage of the situation.

I'm trying to ignore it.

Her advice for dealing with all the stress are the same pearls of 'wisdom' I have received from coworkers, Mum, Miles, Jaq when I try to talk about it:

-Relax.
-Don't think about it.

With the horrible glace cherry of "work on the Progressive Relaxation bullshit".

Relaxing my body doesn't keep my brain from being a dick. I feel useless and lazy and so fucking STUPID when I try to do it.

I told her, no dice.

UGH.

I think I'll try it while listening to Tim Minchin or something.



I'm making semi-decent progress with editing the NaNo effort of last year, updating my notes as I go so I don't forget shit and have glaring inconsistencies. (My copy of Dragonflight has Lytol's dragon changing colour in it. I want to avoid shit like that)

Unfortunately digital arty stuff has taken a screaming nosedive into the abyss. I picked up my tablet for the first time in 2 weeks today and. . . Yeah, major suckage all round.

I have to spend less time on YouTube watching speedpaints by professional artists and more time scribbling.

Because I compare myself to them and get frustrated and impatient when my pictures are not INSTANTLY as pretty as theirs and get discouraged and end up mopey with art block.

Ok. Enough whining. I'm going to go pester Dralion and go to bed.

Work in the morning. Wooo.

~Peri

Morbid and Creepifying; I can Handle.

Today we have nor'west gales and occasional bouts of pissing rain.

We keep having blink-brownouts. Kinda worrying.

Good thing I have lots of candles and a cat.

I didn't go to work. I'm kinda glad I didn't, now. Riding a motorbike in this kind of weather is a bit dodgy, to say the least.

I feel horribly guilty, though. AwesomeBoss has a really horrible-sounding cough. I'm worried abut her. I just couldn't do it, though. Last night I had chest pains, couldn't even keep water in without a fight and was shaking like a fucking vibrator.

This morning I knew I couldn't manage it, I was already shaking and freaking out.

What the FUCK is wrong with me?

I'm sick of not being able to have anything tasty. If I have to eat it'd better be bloody nice or what's the point?

I miss garlic so much I don't even have words.

My dreams have been taking me to strange places lately.

Big buildings of weird design.

Practically mazes.

A place that looks close is really ages away. There are no direct routes anywhere.

Things that look like stairs turn out to be wall-mouldings with delusions of grandeur. Of course, you don't find this out until you're halfway up them looking for the next step or handhold and you look up to see the wall curve over into ceiling and realise people are looking at you funny.

A cathedral of arched ceilings, light and airy. Everything was golden wood panelling and crowds of the 1950s-stereotype middle class. I felt really uncomfortable there but couldn't find the bloody exit. Or if I could see it, any path to it ended in a dead-end room or the loos.

A large renovated semi-modernised victorian house conservatories and a minimalist decorating scheme. Wind blew one off the walls out and half of it fell down. I was the only person there, turning off the fuses so the place wouldn't catch fire.

A concert hall/library with lots of dark wood and red velvet. Creepy gothic architecture and people in classy Victorian-cum-Modern-Goth outfits. It was built to combine a library with an accurate and artistic display of the innards of some strange beast. There was a very nicely carved semi-abstract heart the size of my torso. My guide enjoyed trying to freak me out with the nastier internal organ sculptures.

Seriously, imagine a heart/kidney hybrid the size of your torso displaced in 4 different directions so you can see all sides of it at once no matter what angle you view the sculpture from. All carved from one massive chunk of mahogany.

The whole fucking place was like that.

A building that was essentially made of surreal artwork blending obscene modern ideas and baroque lines with a mastery of sculptural technique that would have made Michelangelo weep.

I think I've been thinking about the Keys project (Weird story idea) too much while listening to Miles talk about using Memory Loci to memorise his part in Shakespeare.

Oh yeah, this is going to be my costume on October 31st:

Brb, I'm going to time-travel for some Xeno surgery

~Peri

No Escape

Spring is definitely here.

Cherry trees around town are blooming, there are lambs up on the hill, some of the bulbs in the garden have flowered.

It's getting warmer.

I don't like it.

It's a reminder that it will soon be too bloody hot to be comfortable.

Everyone splashing around at the beach and going to the pool, shorts and skirts with no worries about having to explain scars.

"Um . . Dralion is really smart. No, seriously! She learned how to spell"

"Never watch a horror movie when a cat is sitting on you"

"I like belly-flopping on cacti when I'm bored out of my mind"

Not exactly plausible.

Then we will have all the skinny bitched from Uni parading around in miniskirts with teeny-tiny legs and bones fucking everywhere.

Work will be stifling and we will have to watch out for flies getting into the cabinet through the wonky fucking seals where they glued two short cabinets together instead of buying one big one.

I am existing in a state of stupefied exhaustion.

Kerys was off sick this week and MHS forgot to ring me to let me know.

The staff were nice and asked if I had something "fun" to do. (I lied and said 'Yes') Next week, same time.

I feel awful because there was a really upset woman in the waiting room when I went in and I misjudged her personal space (Twice the size I thought it was. I gave her 2m and she needed 3-4) and I asked the DUMBEST FUCKING QUESTION IN THE WORLD.

"Y'alright?"

What the FUCK Peri?!

Geeze, you blithering fucking idiot. Someone is having a meltdown in the waiting room of MHS and you ASK THEM IF THEY'RE ALRIGHT.

OF COURSE SHE'S FUCKING NOT, YOU DIPSHIT.

She did what anyone would do and bolted into an empty room, staff went to keep an eye on her.

I should have just gotten the box of tissues for her and kept my bloody trap shut.

*Facedesk*

The ranitidine is enough to offset the work stress so that I'm at Stage One Stress-Stomach. Instead of it rejecting everything it's constant burping and acid after spice/grease/strong flavours/fizzy/alcohol.

The last two weeks have maybe given VonFishburger an idea of just how much I do at work (I really should illustrate my Saturday for you a la Mich) and some regulars noticed I wasn't there and said they missed me.

Warm fuzzies. I felt almost human for a minute.

Neptune has handed in his resignation. His last official day is in the first week of October and he is on the Casual roster until the first week in November,

AHAHAHAHAHAAAA WE ARE SO FUCKED.

I swear I'm living in some sort of badly-written dystopia.

I don't know why I'm still getting out of bed and going to work and trying to act like everything is normal and fine.

I don't even see the point to doing so.

Stubborn robotic bitch.



~Peri

Kyrie, Eleison. . .

I've had this song stuck in my head for days.




I'm so sick of feeling.

I'm so sick of being me.

It would be so nice if I could punch out and someone else could take over.

I want to run away into the mountains and not have to think anymore.

I'm wondering why I tried so hard to keep getting enough calories over the last three weeks.

It would have been the perfect time to just stop eating and give up.

I was so happy to hear my youngest brother saying I looked way skinnier (I certainly can't fucking see it) and Mum passing on other comments he made was just icing on the cake.

Sick, but it's true.

Instead I forced myself to eat enough to keep my body functioning and maintain my weight.

Stupid girl.

I haven't weighed myself in nearly a week. It's a new record.

I want to become a vegetable.

Braindead. Numb.

I might be happy then.

I'm sick of HAVING to DO things all the fucking time.

I'm sick of having to put on a fucking mask and pretend everything is more-or-less fine for Miles because he simply doesn't fucking understand. That or he forgets. He's busy so he forgets a lot of things I tell him.

No matter how often I explain it, how I word it, he just can't understand.

I guess that's a good thing. For him.

I'm sick to death of not being able to cry while I can. I know this ability to cry won't last long, it will go away again soon. I just wish I didn't have to time it around when he may or may not catch me and go all smothery on me.

It drives me insane.

If I'm upset and crying DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME UNLESS I ASK YOU TO.

If you make an uninvited move towards me I assume you're going to hit me. So just back the fuck off and leave me alone until I come to YOU.

Can someone please erase everything in my brain so I'm not me anymore?

I can't stand myself.

~Peri

Cracks Appear

I think that distraction has turned into avoidance has turned into denial.

Denial which is starting to crack.

The ice was rotten, anyway.

There are things I've been meaning to blog about but haven't gotten around to it yet.

Some are hard. If I don't talk about them I can pretend they don't exist a bit longer, yeah?

Some are fun, I'm just being lazy with blogging.

Coz when I finish the fun stuff there's only the hard stuff to write about.

Today was my first shift in over a week.

Piddly little 4.5 hours.

When I put my uniform in my bag I started shaking.

I was feeling sick when I got there.

After 3 hours I was feeling dry-mouthed and vomity.

After 3.5 hours I was freaking out and trying my hardest to NOT CRY DAMMIT YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DO A POLLY AND CRY BECAUSE OF WORK.

I didn't get any backup stock done for tomorrow morning because I had to keep going out to serve. I think Jeri was in a stroppy but it was hard to tell.

She told me to go home and "just don't stress about [work]"

I wish it was that fucking easy.

If things continue like this that place will kill me sooner rather than later.

Nervous energy created by a need to look at anything BUT the big black hole of hurt inside me is backfiring.

It hits the extra stress created by work and explodes like pure potassium dropped in water.



Boom.

~Peri