zfreelance: (Guns and Booze)
Watched The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. That shit is pretty intense. And Daniel Craig is still ridiculously pretty.

Got a ticket today that I can't afford for having an expired tag that I couldn't afford to renew.

I've been bouncing up and down between okay and really-fucking-burned-out for the past few days, and the only thing that helps is not thinking about how fucking bored I am with most of the crap I'm dealing with.

I've spent way too much of my paycheck, already, and cannot make myself care.

It is hard to make myself accept that I still have another year of this. I keep hoping, in the back of my mind, that my job will just pile on that last fucking straw and I can have a nice, satisfying mental breakdown/shitfit in public, march out the door, and never look back. But then I would be homeless, and that's a pain in the ass.

So, now I'm going to get drunk on a Monday night and try to make it through this semester.

/bitching and moaning

Update: after waking up at 5AM to the exact same sensations of frustration, anger, and general apathy, I have decided that the dark chocolate bars I found under my bed the other night are the cause.

It's depression chocolate.

zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Don't Blink)


Aahahahahahaha, Q_Q

So, years and YEARS AGO (high school, at least, since one of us had a driver's license) my best friend and I took turns living at each other's houses. Honestly, we went everywhere together, and our parents came to accept that they had somehow gained another child.

We also didn't sleep a lot, so late night walks and Taco Bell runs were not at all uncommon.

After one of these runs, we were driving back to her house for the night. We both lived in heavily wooded neighborhoods, so the streets were pretty dark, even with street lamps and light pollution.

At the start of her driveway was a large oak tree.

On this particular night, we drove past this oak tree and, out of the corner of our eyes, saw something.

It was man-shaped, tall and dark and standing straight and still against the trunk of the tree. It was only for a moment, and we were quickly past the tree and pulling up to her house. But we both immediately turned to one another and asked if the other had seen something.

We both described what we'd seen, independent of the other's input, and our experience was identical. We'd seen something, and that something wasn't normal.

Thoroughly freaked, we dashed inside and have come to call this... thing the 'Creepy Tree Man'.

And now we have a new name for it.

I am quite aware of Slender Man's artificial origins and exactly how mental this sounds, but there is no doubt in my mind that my friend and I saw something, and calling it the Slender Man is as good as an explanation as any.

And now that we've made this realization, neither of us are sleeping ever again.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Rage)
I am seriously considering drop-kicking my car into a lake. It stalled out while I was driving it uphill, so I had to sit for about an hour in the blazing heat, waiting for my friend with jumper cables to come by, watching car after car drive past. I just started shouting insults at anyone who made eye contact.

Bunch of assholes.

The car still isn't working, but we pushed it into a parking lot so it can just sit and think about what it's done.

Yeah, my mood is not all that awesome right now. I'm just hoping that our plan to drink it up later tonight does not fall through, because I need to not be sober.

Oh! Also, I'm working. So on top of being a cranky, overheated bitch, I'm a hypocrite, too.


Edit: It is always safe to assume that my rare fits of rage are as short-lived as they are violent. With liberal application of dark chocolate, cold Earl Gray, and Ry Cooder, I feel a bit more human. -_-
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Hmm.)
from District 9 (awesome), and my father says to me, "Yeah, no more of that tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do on the kitchen."


Okay, 01. Killjoy.

02. What you mean 'we', white man? What finger have you lifted towards any of these home improvement projects this ENTIRE SUMMER? You got all excited over these new projects, and then said, "Z, go take care of this. No, I don't give a damn if your knee/wrist/whatever is fucked up, you go do this."

03. Yeeeah. Because we've only been sitting around this house for the entire god damn summer, waiting for the divine inspiration to finish the kitchen. And then, all of a sudden you realize, "Oh wait! Our free labor is leaving! Quick, we must eek every last iota of work possible in these last few days!"

God, it's like I owe them something. Go fucking pick on your other kids. Really.

And yes, I am tired of bitching about this.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Stage Dive)
Please to be having navel-gazing. )


Jul. 23rd, 2009 01:59 am
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Viper)

zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (FUCK)
It's been raining nonstop, all day. It's getting colder as the day goes by. I've been falling asleep through two classes, one of which was a review for a test that I just cannot care about. If I flunk it, I'm dropping that class.
On the way back to the dorm, wherein I planned to nap and recharge for my last class, my bike threw its chain. Three times. In the pouring rain.

By the time I got back to my room, I was soaked, greasy, exhausted, and fed up with today. Fuck my last class. I am in my pajamas, brewing chamomile tea, and fixing to sleep until the world decides to stop being a complete dick.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (DO NOT WANT)
Was that really necessary? I don't think Ted Bundy has the kind of bad karma I've worked off, today.

Sincerely Yours and Go Fuck Yourself,


Dear Math Professor,

Thank you for being unbearably cute with your nose-wrinkle and your goofy grin. You make me not die.

Thanks again,
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (FUCK)
I got my new phone today. It's got a scratch up screen and does not charge. The battery and charge cord are fine, its just the phone. I'm waiting to hear back from the guy to see if I'm gonna be stuck with a lemon phone until my contract runs out.

I finally caved and bought a paid account here on LJ as an early birthday present to myself. But through some computer screw up, I got charged twice for it. Uh-uh. 35 icons are not worth $40. So, I'm waiting to hear back from the LJ guys.

But there is a silver lining. I no longer have to play musical icons!
In fact, I have no idea how I'm gonna use all of this space...

EDIT: Okay. Extravagance and general difficulties aside, I'm loving this paid account. I can has it all, without the bloody ads.

::is zen::
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Pissed off.)

Its not just work. Its not just class. Its a whole slew of things that seem to be conspiring behind my back to rise up and kill me.

I've been working hard at class, not really getting any breaks until the weekend.
And when I'm not in class, I'm usually working, which is just an exercise in how long I can look at files before my freaking head explodes.
I'm struggling with meals and sleep, eating and sleeping at really strange hours.
I don't see my friends from my dorm as often as I used to, as I'm always busy. Sometimes I'll go the entire day without seeing my dorm room, except to sleep.
I'm frustrated with homework and other (mostly English) projects that strike me as mind-numbingly POINTLESS.
I'm almost afraid that I've bitten off more than I can chew, this time around. But I have to pile on the credits if I want to transfer and I have to work if I ever want to get a car.

In other words, when the hell is Spring Break and why isn't it here, yet?
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (*sigh*)
\vā-ˈkā-shən, və-\
often attributive
Middle English vacacioun, from Anglo-French vacacion, from Latin vacation-, vacatio freedom, exemption, from vacare
14th century

1: a respite or a time of respite from something : intermission
2 a: a scheduled period during which activity (as of a court or school) is suspended b: a period of exemption from work granted to an employee
3: a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation had a restful vacation at the beach
4: an act or an instance of vacating
5: ur doing it wrong.

Since my last exam, I have been running around doing Christmas-y, family like things, and I am getting pretty damn tired of it. When I'm not acting as default chauffeur, I'm cleaning up the house, putting up the Christmas lights, decorating mantles, and shopping for presents, all the while dodging those insipid Christmas carols.
For those who do not reside in Florida right now, the high for the last week has been 80 degrees. Thats not Christmas. I cannot listen to The 12 Days of Christmas when I'm wearing flipflops.
So, yeah. I'm tired. And the list of people who insist that we get together and do something is getting longer by the minute.

And the sick thing is? If I had a job, I wouldn't be working anywhere NEAR as hard, and I'd be getting paid.

So, my dislike of Christmas is only growing. I can't tell you people how happy I will be when its Dec 26th. Because then? Its just hanging out until New Years, where I'll probably get trashed with all of my as-of-yet absent friends.


Wheres my fucking eggnog.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Eeehhhh...)
Yeah, buddy. It is a Friday. And I am ill.

Cut to spare young/male eyes )

Bitch, gimme some RED MEAT.


zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Default)

October 2012

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