I finished and sent one jb_ficexchange fic but I haven't even started the second one I don't know what to write oh God why did I offer to pinch write somebody kill me now

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I hate being hungover. I used to be able to prevent it, but since I drank three and a half bottles of water last night (plus a glass at truemajority's) and took a double dose of Excedrin before sleep, and have still been completely incapacitated all day, I appear to have lost the knack.

As in, it's five o'clock and I just now felt good enough to go get my car, after sleeping all day. (And man, work tomorrow's probably gonna suck; what're the chances I'll get anything resembling a decent night's sleep after sleeping all day?)

Bah.

I've hit that point where I can't tell if I'm all woozy and unsteady because I'm still sick, and thus eating would be a bad idea, or if it's because I've only eaten two slices of artichoke pie and a handful of cookies in the past two days, and thus eating would solve all my problems. My tummy is rumbling, so I'm taking my chances with some Wheat Thins.

I'm trying to write a Jonas Brothers primer specifically for Bandom people who've come in through stuff like Mike/Kevin and the JoBros-on-Warped-Tour fic and don't necessarily need the thoroughness of the Jonas U series but might like to stop being confused by every name they read. It's not happening, though. Oh well.

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IDK why I'm so exhausted; I've been getting a full eight hours, give or take ten minutes at most, every night except Friday & Saturday, and since I nap most of the day Saturday & Sunday that shouldn't make a huge difference. And I'm not seeing any signs the sleep I'm getting is restless - if my sheets were all fucked up in the morning, or something, I'd get it. But there's no sign of bad sleep, and I'm still having trouble getting out of bed when my alarm goes off, still dragging ass by the end of the day. Today I took a half-hour nap even though I have a rule against napping on weekdays, and I'm already wanting to crawl into bed. Blah.

It doesn't help I've been having killer migraines like crazy lately; two Saturdays in a row I've woken up with a bad one that refuses to die, and I keep getting them at work. We have two warehouses, the one we usually work in and one across the street that's mostly there to get shit out of the way we work in every now and then. The crap warehouse has fluorescent lighting, and we've been checking cans/boxes for rust, which means having to scrutinize in crappy, dim lighting. AWESOME for my headaches, totally.

We have a four-day weekend coming up. Maybe I just need a break.

ETA: While I was in the shower, one of the cats decided to work on the sequel to I Don't Blame You For Being You:

Kevin blinks; the night before flashes into his head, more than he could remember before, and the second he sees it his face has to show it, 'cause Mike looks away.

"RRRRD1`N IU DSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXSSSS)_PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPVPI'm sorry, Kevin."

When I figure out which cat it was, I think I'll let her write my yuletide fic.

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My mom just called me down to have A Talk about how I'm not doing well, which...I'm not but I'd kind of hoped it wasn't all that obvious. I basically just cited my inability to afford zoloft right now, and the fact that I only just looked at what I've been doing and realized something wasn't right, and just nodded and mmhmm'ed at the appropriate places because I hate that conversation.

It's probably necessary; I realize that even if it isn't, she's probably always going to assume it is based on her speaking up being the thing that got me back home and into counseling. But tonight she kept mixing it with "you need to be better with money" talk and I don't know how much of that conversation was "you're not okay and I'm worried" and how much was "it's time to get your shit together and stop being a fucking mooch".

Both of which are valid motivations. I'd just like to know.

I knew, when I posted a few days ago about how my behavior tends to change before I even know I'm getting bad, I was in for it, approaching a wicked bad depressive episode. It would be nice if knowing did any good, if I could make this thick chokey can't-fucking-breathe on-the-brink-of-tears-all-the-time feeling not come if I know about it fast enough. I should be able to; theoretically I picked up all the tools in counseling. But I can only do it when I'm not bad; I can keep myself going day-to-day but I can't pick myself up when I fall over, not right away.

I don't want to do this for the rest of my life.

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The weird thing about my depression/anxiety is a lot of times it gets bad in the background; I don't feel myself backsliding until all of a sudden there I am. I realized today, after I had to hype myself up to take a shower, after I wandered around Hot Topic for 20 minutes building up the courage to ask if they had such-and-such a shirt in my size, after a quick audit of the past few days showed I hadn't left my room more than necessary and I'd spent most of that time sleeping, that I'm getting bad again.

I don't know if I was actually better when I was working, or if it was a false positive, if needing to get out in the world every day just let me say to myself "hey, not spending my whole life in my room, doing good". Either way, I can't be trusted to take care of myself without a routine that demands I do; I've known this for a while.

Not that I want to feel horrid all the time, but I wish it took my conscious mind kicking into depression-mode before my subconscious set my body going about the depression-mode routine. Cart before the horse, subconscious, not cool.

In less depressing news, I got Disney Pop Hits Singstar and I'm pretty sure my life is complete. Except. At some point my dog chewed through my only controller, so I had to use the HSM3 Dance! dance pad - laid it out on my bed and smacked the X and O and START areas. Which was okay, except I couldn't go back if I hit the wrong song - no triangle - and I couldn't edit my name, no square. WHATEV, I got to sing, and THAT'S THE IMPORTANT PART.

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Work today sucked like Hell. I started the day by forgetting my sneakers, so I had to borrow a pair that were a half-size too small - almost tolerable, except they were steel-toe so there was no give, and they were narrow up there. Sooo I'm pretty sure after 8 hours on my feet in those I'll never walk again.

And today we were running the labeler, and I ended up stacking the packed boxes on the pallet, which is usually my favorite job when we have the labeler going - it's the most labor-intensive (yes! I actually like doing the least lazy thing sometimes), and it's one of the few jobs that takes some thinking (not much, but there a couple specific rules about how to stack the boxes...it's like doing a 100-piece puzzle when everyone else is doing a 50) so the day goes by a lot faster for me. BUT the last time we ran the labeler there were two of us stacking, and I didn't take that into account, and there was no fan today. So my arms are KILLING me and I am exhausted right to my bones. And I think we're still labeler-ing tomorrow, too.

Whatev. I've spent the evening unwinding with fic, both reading and writing. Here, please enjoy this implausible, cracktacular, AU setup for a JoBros/Black Rebel Motorcycle Club fic.

It started as a joke, a drunk-stoned-probably-more phone call to someone they'd met while working out the New Moon soundtrack thing, a name they recognized from the ending credits of something moronic on the Disney channel and a suggestion Nick made (that might not have been a joke, it's hard to tell with him).

Of course, as these things go, they maybe kept the joke going too long, because it was funnier when it turned out they were the only ones who got it, and either Disney's less anal than rumored about who they associate with or their background checks suck; either way, Pete's smoking outside a Disney soundstage, while Nick's off somewhere shadowing the gayest Jonas brother (which is like talking about the wettest ocean, but hey) and Rob's seething but not actually doing anything to stop their brush with Disney stardom.

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Last night instead of going to bed at my normal bedtime I wrote some JONASverse Nick/Kevin, for the disneyficfest prompt "Nick is COURTING KEVIN. Old-fashioned stylee, like a proper (angry) little gentleman. And Kevin is like HAW HAW HAW WOW MY LITTLE BROTHER IS BEING SO NICE TO ME, THIS IS NICE". It would be nice if more people wrote Nick/Kevin Lucas COME ON, IT'S SO *OBVIOUS*. Possibly not in comparison to real-world Nick/Joe, but nothing's obvious compared to that.

In other writing news, my "Zac and Kevin have a baby (sort of) and get married omg" epic appears to be completely stalled, and I can't get past the first scene of Kevin Lucas/Troy Bolton, but that's okay because the other night I was struck with the desperate urge to write a space AU, in which Kevin owns a bed and breakfast ~in space~ and Zac is a dashing hero ~in space~ and Mike Carden is a pirate ~in space~ and there are "uh oh which one do I love more" shenanigans ~in space~. It's awesome.

I started to get a migraine in the last half hour or so of work today, and it went from zero to JESUS FUCK SHIT OUCH faster than any migraine I think I've ever had. If I weren't so wired from the caffeine in the dose of Excedrin I actually managed to keep down, I'd be sleeping right now, keeping on a normal schedule be damned.

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I came home sick yesterday afternoon, after spending most of the morning with a migraine so bad I had no depth perception (I would've come home in the morning, except a] no depth perception would've made driving home a BAD IDEA, so I stayed to keep chugging Excedrin and b] another woman was sick and she looked like HELL, and we can work fine short one person but not so much short two, so I stayed so she wouldn't feel obligated). The depth perception thing was a new one for me, although I'm wondering if it was less an eyesight issue and more my head pain was throwing my focus off. Either way, I kept reaching for cans and getting table instead. EFFICIENT.

When I got home at 1:30 I took a nap until 4, because the best way to get rid of my migraines is to sleep them off if I can get the pain down enough to actually sleep. That SHOULD have been an early enough nap to let me stick to my normal sleep schedule fairly closely, but OH NO. It took me forever to get to sleep, and when I did I dozed off more than slept; kept waking up until I finally gave up. I thought it'd be around 4 by then, based on how many times I'd woken up, but noooo, it was 2.

I was wide awake from then on...until NOW, of course, 20 minutes before I have to leave. My shower put me right to sleep, WTF. Today's gonna be FUN.

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I should've known better than to talk about liking my job, because when the universe knows I'm happy, the universe makes corrections (that's a GREAT ATTITUDE, no?)

Today the containers we needed didn't show up until 8; we worked until our break at 9 and then the manager came out and told us we were being sent over to the main plant (we work at a warehouse that's only open when they need it and mostly staffed by temps) for today, tomorrow, and all of next week. The two women who've worked at the main plant before groaned. THAT WAS A GOOD SIGN. Also a good sign: the manager said they'd told him we might need to stay until four today. The sort of people who randomly change your hours mid-workday are generally the sort of people who REALLY CARE about their employees!

Anyway we needed to be at the plant by 10, so we got there and got all sanitized and suited up (they are CRAZY about cleanliness, which makes sense because they make food, but OMG IT SUCKS. We have to wear long-sleeved long-pantsed JUMPSUITS, and GLOVES, and HAIRNETS. There is no AIR CONDITIONING. It is EXCESSIVELY HOT. [Especially since the ONLY PLACE THEY COULD POSSIBLY SET US UP was right next to the OVENS. Ovens which are ON. AND HOT.])...and then WAITED. For AN HOUR. Had they let us stay at the warehouse until they actually needed us, we could have gotten some work done, which would have been VASTLY PREFERABLE to sitting in the cafeteria in JUMPSUITS AND HAIRNETS, slowly roasting.

The plant is all fluorescent lighting, which is going to be a BIG ISSUE because that's the one trigger that gives me migraines that WILL NOT DIE - I've never had a fluorescent light migraine that I could get rid of without letting it take its course. We can turn the lights off in our little area, which is fine because we have big windows, but that didn't help much. I'm gonna have to see how it works out tomorrow, since today I already had a headache going in, but just from hour between coming back from lunch and turning the lights off I was almost unable to function.

ALSO 90% of my work wardrobe is skirts because they're so much cooler - I CANNOT WEAR SKIRTS with the stupid jumpsuits. If the lighting issue doesn't render me incapable of working next week I'm gonna be wearing the same, like, two pairs of capris alllll week. AWSUM.

When I bitched about all this to my dad, he was sympathetic. When I bitched to Mom, she just said "well, you should've looked for another job. You know you don't like factory work." DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I'VE LOVED WORK FOR THE LAST TWO WEEKS ugh pay attention.

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My sister works a half hour away and doesn't drive, which hasn't been as big a pain in the ass as we'd expected (easy for me to say, 90% of the time her schedule conflicts with mine so I've gotten out of chauffeur duty more often than not), except for days like today when she has to be in at 6 am.

That doesn't work with anyone's schedule, but it comes closest to working with mine - Georgia, where the PBM warehouse is, is halfway between here and Burlington where she works. So guess who gets to get up at ass o' clock twice this week, and is gonna end up with about 40 minutes to kill between drop-off and drive-to-work time? Uuuugh.

And, even more awesomely, I slept like complete shit last night - took me well over an hour to fall asleep, despite being exhausted, kept waking up in the night, and woke up for good around 2:30. Today - and probably the rest of this week, because what an awesome way to start - is gonna ROCK.

Also, blink and you'll miss it, but the new Jonas Brothers video has clips from upcoming episodes of JONAS, and around 52 seconds in Kevin is Danny Zuko. I NEED THIS EPISODE RIGHT NOW.



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I start a new job today and I don't waaaant toooo. Words cannot express my level of not wanting to. I am pretty sure no one has ever wanted anything less than I want to get in my car to go to a warehouse right now.

And I'm generally pretty okay on Mondays. But yesterday around 5 I got nailed with this MASSIVE exhaustion, and I couldn't take a nap or I'd be up all night, and going to bed early didn't do a thing. I cannot even believe how tired I am right now.

At least today's just training and is supposed to be shortish, Adecco lady said six or seven hours. I told my dad I'd take sister to work later, but I don't think he needs me to, so maybe if I make pitiful look-how-tired-I-am puppy eyes that won't be a thing.

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I'm home sick again. I'm willing to blame last week's more on a really shitty mood than actual illness, but today I was actually in a pretty decent mood (this morning's bout of standard pre-work depression aside, because that really is my standard) until SUDDEN DISEASE.

It's the heat, I know, and I feel bad going home when I know I'll feel better after 30 seconds with the air conditioner, but it's not like my stomach will feel any less awful in the warehouse knowing there's a quick fix at home.

I think I need to quit. I wanted to make it through a full week first, no days off, but all OMG WORST JOB EVER mental anguish aside, the fact that it makes me physically ill is probably not an ignorable issue that should be endured. PLUS they would probably rather have someone who doesn't need to run home at least one day a week and have a fainting spell over the heat.

BACK TO BED. And then to Adecco to figure shit out. Goodbye, income.

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the idea of going to work today depresses me SO MUCH ugh

weather widget says 80° days for the rest of the week. almost 90 on friday. FUCK YEAH the only thing awesomer than my job is doing my job while DYING OF HEAT.

if you like nonsense, which is probably a requirement for reading my journal, you should follow me on Twitter. I entertain myself on breaks by tweeting nonsense. I'M SURE IT IS DELIGHTFUL and not at all annoying

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I'm sick todaaaaay :( I went home sick yesterday around 4 (my shift ends at 5, I thought I could stick it out till the end of the day but that would not have been a good idea), and I thought it might've just been the heat (it was definitely over 100 degrees in the warehouse, and someone kept turning the fans off so it was 100 degrees of stagnant air), because I felt better after an hour at home in my air-conditioned room...but I woke up this morning feeling like Hell.

I really don't know how long I can tolerate this job for. It was getting steadily less intolerable, but yesterday was just...bad. Like, I spent half the day on the brink of why-is-this-my-life tears bad. And I wanna stick it out because I need the money, but...it's too much, I think, just...too much bad at once. I could do the heat on its own, I could do the "HOW DARE YOU SIT DOWN WHEN YOU HAVE NOTHING TO DO" on its own, I could do the tedium on its own, I could do coming home every day hurting in at least 100 different places on its own. I could maybe even do some combination of all of those. But I can't handle all of it.

Maybe the sick/mental health day will help. I'm using it to write Kevin/Zefron/Vanessa Hudgens porn. JUST WHAT THE DOCTOR ORDERED.

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So I went to take a nap around 7 last night (which is a ridiculous time to nap but I just wasn't gonna stay awake any longer, so it was give in to the nap or pass out in the chair), woke up at one, went back to sleep at 3 and just woke up again now.

That's passable.

I'm ridiculously stiff omg. Bitch bitch bitch whine complain.

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work was basically miserable

I knew it would be, it was a crappy warehouse job through the temp agency and I wasn't exactly expecting wondrous things from "we need 30 temps to pack pants lolol".

actually I didn't end up packing pants. There is a big moving line of clothes on hooks that get scanned and go on to magic clothing sales land. Sometimes, clothes fall off the hooks. I pick them up. And put them back on. Or! The barcodes aren't in quite the right place for the scanner. So I take the clothes that didn't get scanned and either rehang them to try again, or scan them to print a new code sticker, stick it on, and then rehang.

I do this for eight hours, minus two 15-minute breaks and an hour for lunch, in a poorly-ventilated warehouse with no air conditioning. There are fans. The person in charge of the fans didn't see fit to keep them on all the time. It was 80 degrees today. I had the beginnings of a migraine by 10 and was nauseous all afternoon.

I live less than five minutes from the place; I was tempted to go home during lunch to sit in my air-conditioned room but I thought I might be too tempted to crawl into my air-conditioned bed for an air-conditioned nap and never go back

whatever. I keep telling myself this is way better motivation to keep looking for a decent job than sitting at home watching Daria all the time (because, really, what job is better than that, and what job isn't better than warehouse hell?), and I get to earn money while I'm getting motivated

now excuse me I'm gonna go see if I fit in our big freezer

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Note to self:

Before you buy games with large peripherals that require a sizeable amount of clear floor, perhaps you should ask yourself "do I have the space for this? Can I make the space for this? How much work will it be?"

Of course, I could just...not be a slob. And then I'd have been able to skip straight to the rearrange-furniture step rather than spending all day cleaning in the zomghumidity.

But! I don't care that I'm hot and tired and cranky, I WILL play my dancey game tonight. REST ASSURED.

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I made it all the way around the cul-de-sac today and back home and didn't need to immediately collapse, so yay. The first time I made it all the way around (after the next-door-driveway incident, I made it 1/3 of the way around but had to walk home, then I did the full way round + home again), I had to rest in our front yard chairs for a while before I could even make it up the steps to go inside and get a drink. Yesterday it was windy as all fuck and rained most of the day, so I only made it out once and didn't get back home after I got all the way around 'cause the wind was against me, so I counted it as a plus for getting out and riding at all, but as a neutral for making any progress.

But today on my first ride (aiming for at least two a day, ideally three - I almost did four today but I think that would've been too much), I did all the way round + home and actually made it inside and to the couch before I couldn't walk anymore. Second ride, inside and to the opposite end of the house, then upstairs, then back outside (I was changing, then getting a drinky from my alcohol fridge, then going out to read) before I had to sit. On ride three I don't think I could've done the same, but I'd just had dinner and this is the first day I've done three rides so I was tired from that, too - I did manage opposite end of the house then outside, though.

This is turning into little victories for my anxiety, too - the first couple rides I wouldn't go if there was anyone outside, but the day before yesterday it didn't bother me that after I got going I noticed someone out, and on both my later rides today I actually went out knowing people would see me - and looking like a dork, too, 'cause I was wearing a dress and never felt like totally changing so I just pulled some capris on under it. Yay me.

The ouch = first sunburn of the season, oops. I spent a few hours outside reading today, and I kept switching sides so neither arm would be in the sun for too long at once but they still both got a little burned. And the sun was *always* on my legs (actually just half of each leg, I had them stretched out in front of me and crossed at the ankle, so just the inside calves got it) so they're pretty roasted. They don't hurt too badly unless I'm not careful how I sit - if I get my calves too close to each other, the heat from one aggravates the heat from the other and owww. My arms are kind of bright but not painful, and they'll probably just be a nice tan by tomorrow night. And luckily my legs never hold any color, 'cause otherwise I'd have a seriously unattractive set of tan blotches in the midst of otherwise pasty whiteness.

In other news, I found a torrent of almost every Disney & Pixar movie ever (I believe it's everything but the straight-to-videos/crappy sequels [Rescuers Down Under & Toy Story 2 being non-crappy sequels, perhaps the only ones]) and who cares about those. It's generally moving quickly enough that if I prioritize I get [x movie] in about a day, so I'm OD'ing on Disney <3

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I stopped taking my Zoloft for a while - not for any specific reason, I just forgot to take it once, and then twice, and then for a week, and then...etc. - and man I forgot how much it kicks my ass when I first start. On top of the fact I've been off it for a month or so I'm up another 25mg, and I've done absolutely nothing today but sleep. I was awake for about half an hour this morning after seven hours of sleep; I just woke up after going back to bed at 11 and my goal is to stay awake for a full hour.

On top of that I feel kind of bleargh, but it's all stuff that wouldn't be a problem if I'd kept up with my medicine all along so I'll be good and not complain.

Oh! And I have a third ticky against coffee. This one's against coffee itself, not just caffeine. I'm now supposed to cut back on coffee for the heartburn problems that have cropped up in the past month or so, in addition to my migraines and anxiety.

Coffee you are the devil :(

The worst part of all this anxiety shit, hands-down, isn't so much the anxiety as the part of me that is absolutely convinced things will never get any better, that no matter how much counseling I get or how much medicine I take it will always be this hard.

And that part never gets any quieter, any less insistent, and it never takes a goddamn break.