Coupons and CrackFic

I’m listening to a lecture on Computer Programming, reading a crackfic comic about the cast of Torchwood and Doctor Who as babies, and basking in the glory of a newly-discovered blog. I… I think I’m a nerd. O_O…

I know, what took me so long to see that? I was dissecting plot since I was ten. Been trying to write it since I was eleven. Maybe if I felt a little more stable, I’d have finished something by now.

Server design. It’s a lecture on Server Design. I don’t know enough code to do a “Hello World”, and I’m listening to lectures on Server Design. I’m either a genius or an idiot. You decide. I’m too busy to even think about what I’m doing. All I want is enough mental stimulation so that typing this doesn’t turn into a rant or a complete whine-fest.

Screw the lectures. I’d have to be paying attention to actually learn something. And I don’t think I can even afford that right now.

Playing with five tabs, fuming about things, and wondering why a parody of a terrifying episode of Torchwood has all of a sudden become cute-fodder, you realize that when you gotta rant, you gotta rant…

Firstly, I had set my cell phone alarm for 8:50. Why? It’s exactly 8 hours from midnight. Which was about when I turned in for the night. Morning. Whatever. SO even if I was woken up at 7:59 or, hell, let’s say 8:49, I’d have been pissed. I’m not too anal to constantly arrange things the way I want them, but I’m anal enough not appreciate being woken up before I wanted to.

And if it had been over something important… like if there was a fire, or if there was a technical malfunction that needed fixing, I’d have popped up with just a little grumbling, helped out, crashed back into bed, and have added an hour to the alarm time to recoup.

And what did my mother wake me up over? Wasting half the credit on a coupon because CVS didn’t have pork & beans. Gawd, if I wanted to buy gum or candy, I’d have been glared the hell at. But I get exactly what she wanted, going to Hell-Mart to find it, and she wants to bitch about three dollars of store credit not used? You wanted fucking chips, so fuck off.

I think I’m just going to start refusing to do things. I wash dishes, I sweep floors, and that’ll be about it. All the time and effort and money, and I’ve become such a rotten bastard. Oh well. Wouldn’t be the first time in history it’s ever happened…

In any case, all this bastard-ness might actually come in handy. The anger and the seething just makes me want to write more. And that’s good, because I have a series to rewrite. Again. You’d think that all my life, since the fifth grade, might have been enough time to write a graphic novel, but no. Life is full of all kinds of messy distractions… and people… and crap. Yay, deteriorating excuses for laziness and depression!

So, now what, Jenn? You just ruined another perfectly good section of the internet with your filth, and you got nothing left but blankness and really bad attitude. I mean, right now, it looks as though  I solved nothing. Later I’ll feel better, but I really feel like I’ve solved nothing… … … Epically considering the slam at the door, the sound of my Mom’s voice, and the fact that I think the door opened with enough force to make the broken bottom knob fall out of the door. Again.

*flips a coin… and fakes taking her teacup/mug downstairs to venture a look*

False alarm. Which is good, because the real one went off.

Thank you, and have a nice day.


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