#If I go to sleep now I'll get a solid 11 hours before school

[popcorn-plots]

i have hit the end of my rope. I have no more spoons. but I still have so much stuff to get done. I believe I may have to resort to violence.

[dollsonmain]

I've forgotten how to sleep and startled myself when I looked in the mirror on my way to bed last night. The eye wells in my skull were very, very visible. Slightly less bad this morning.

So sleep hasn't happened due to both anxiety/stress and the AC having been broken for a while. AC was out for about a week and once it was fixed, I was too stressed about the absences thing at school to sleep the first night, and then too stressed last night because Son broke his school laptop yesterday and we have to tell That Guy today, AND That Guy had gone out partying with friends after work which means he drives home like that in the middle of the night and I always worry he's not going to make it. I can't sleep until I hear the garage door open. If he crashes, with the way he has our finances set up, Son and I are effectively homeless immediately. Part of why I am trying to work. Him not coming home until 1am also prolonged the anticipatory anxiety of having to wait to tell him the problem and get over the aftermath.

And then I woke up at 3am like always and couldn't get back to sleep.

Anyway.

Work stuff ish again

I will not complain about being expected to work 6 hours a day because that's less than a "normal" job anyway, but really at that point I'd rather work a full 8 and get benefits.

I very much think it should be illegal to schedule people juuuuuust under the cut off for benefits to be required by labor law. You should have to either schedule people 40 hours or 20 hours, no in between, IMO. Scheduling someone exactly 20 hours gives them plenty of time to go work SOMEWHERE ELSE for the other 20 hours without having to worry about being scheduled to work 60+ hours a week because both employers are cheapskates that will work you 30 hours.

I also need to completely change my daily routines AGAIN to get to work on time.

My current-new routine is:

wake up at 3:30 and get my morning coffee

sit around and wait for That Guy to leave for work which is usually 4-4:30

Son gets up and we have the morning together

Son leaves for school at 6:50

I don't get hungry until somewhere between 7 and 9 and will have breakfast then

depending on how exhausted I am I will or will not do chores between 5 and 10

leave to walk to work at 10:20

get to work at 10:40/10:45

work 11-3

That Guy picks me up on his way home from work, though I did have to walk home yesterday

do chores

dinner between 4-5 or so

vegetable time

Now, I'm going to have to skip my morning coffee because it makes me poop and I don't want to be pooping while I'm also the only cashier at work.

So it's going to be like....

wake up around 3 and shower OR shower in the evenings and deal with being gross from night-sweats at work so wake up at 3:30, I do prefer to show up to work nice and clean but it is a gas station...

force feed myself some sort of solid food while waiting for That Guy to leave for work around 4-4:30

make sure the boy gets up no later than 5

leave to walk to work at 5:20

get to work at 5:40-5:45

work 6-whenever (she hasn't decided when????)

leave work to walk to home whenever that happens to be and I'd rather it WASN'T noon because it's going to be stupid hot, then, but stop on the store's "porch" to put on sunscreen real fast... which means I need an opaque travel size bottle for sunscreen, and eat something so I don't pass out on the way home (yesterday I took a small bread roll and some jerky and ate that and drank a second V8 Energy while walking)

get home around 1 if I left at noon because the walk home is slower than the walk to work

eat a real lunch? finally have my poopin coffee?

chores

Son and That Guy get home at 3

profit???

I'm going to have to prep and take multiple sugar drinks so my blood sugar doesn't bottom out while at work. Right now I've been taking one bottle of water with a Real Lemon lemonade drink stick mixed in and I forget to drink it but it's there so I can slam it before leaving. I'll need to also take a meal replacement shake got sugar, salt, and other nutrients, I think, and an extra water.

Manager keeps trying to get me to buy something at work before my shift starts and I'm like no thanks those are MY monies, now, you're not getting them back on your overpriced bottled water.

Today I need to do laundry, deal with the fallout of telling That Guy that Son broke his school laptop, go to Kohl's and see if I can find some New Balance cross trainers to wear to work since I will be doing walking, standing, and lifting and I think cross-trainers would be the best option AND already know NB is the brand they primarily carry, need to find a hi-vis vest or couple of belts because I'll be walking to work in the dark, and That Guy said he'd take me to dinner today for leaving me to have to walk home from work Yesterday but what does that matter? That's going to be every day from now on.

A few more paychecks and I'll look for a scooter again. Or something. Still kind of like the idea of getting a cargo trike, ngl. Would be harder to steal than a bike anyway.

I don't know what I'm going to do in the winter.

-

Running a salary and income tax calculator and factoring in about $3k in short-term hobby income, even putting that no tax is withheld, it looks like I'd expect a tax return of $3k? Because there's about $3k in tax credits??? Whatever. I'll figure it out when it's closer to the right time.

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[pbandjesse]

Im real tired. I somehow lost the last hour. Just laying here. I am going to try to go to bed very soon.

I did not sleep well last night. I just couldn't turn my brain off. I think I fell asleep around 2. So getting up at 8 when my alarm went off was not going to happen.

I sort of half slept until 10. A little before 10. I got up and took a shower. I tried to not feel miserable. I had really wanted to work in my studio but I just couldn't shake it off.

I had a small breakfast. And I packed a lunch. I mostly just hung out on the couch. And then I decided I would just go to work. I left the house at 11. And got the bus pretty quickly. I was at the school by 11:30.

I spent my time there making some posters with our daily schedule and with some jobs. I made a whole new system which ended up working out really well and the kids seem to very much respond to. I did some cleaning and organizing. I'm mad at a few of the kids pieces that had accidentally gotten left behind. It was a nice morning.

Fitsum came around 1 and I got a little annoyed because he had made a lesson plan and just didn't send it to me for whatever reason. So even though I wrote one I wasn't going to argue. I'll just save it for later. But then Tiffany talk to him and we are going to possibly be switching teachers. I'm going to stay with 4th grade and fitsum might be moving too 5th. While Liz will stay with 5th and Mister Dee will come to 4th grade with me. That could go either way. I like Dee. I'm just hoping that it'll be a positive change for everyone. We'll see what happens.

But today would be the same. I went and collected the kids and then we went over our new rules and we made a class agreement and it was really good. They were really responding to us and being very respectful today. It felt pretty awesome.

We went out to recess and was cold out but I have some nice conversations with the kids. Couple of them confided in me about how they knew I would listen to them. And it was really nice.

Dinner was fine. They had french fries and they let me get some french fries too. So that was exciting. The kids cleaned up the tables and then we headed to the classroom to do art.

We decided that on our schedule 3:45 to 4 would be quiet instruction time. And only gets stuck to that basically. There was a little complaining and grumbling. About when we would start actually making art. But I think being consistent with the schedule is going to help them with some of the behavior issues that we tend to come across.

And having the 45 minutes of solid art time really seemed to work for them. They never really seemed to get bored in it. And even the ones that finished a little too fast I was able to redirect them a bit. We just drew and it was really good.

Cleanup could have gone smoother. My new system for who's in charge of cleaning up what got a little Askew. I think it's just going to be repetition of explaining what the cleaning groups me in. But in general it went really well and I'm very happy with how today went.

I took the kids to pick up. And there was a couple issues because one of my students had a watch it went missing. And the mom was saying that the kids were thieves and all the stuff and I promised I would shake them down tomorrow. And then 20 minutes later she comes back because they were halfway home and my students covered the watch was in his pocket. Which is what I said. That it was probably in his backpack or something. But whatever. And then we spent the next hour and change hanging their work for the show next week.

Honestly it all looks great. Me and fitsum we're basically done hanging all of our stuff at around a quarter to seven. So after some fussing with the tape and putting sculptures in the case in the hallway we headed home.

I got in the door right at 7. I that sweet pea and I have a sandwich. And then I messed around with my 1998 Furbys. I put batteries in Pascal, the baby oh, and he has the sweetest voice. He's calls me Mama and giggles and sings. His ears move which I was excited about. And I was hoping that he would communicate with Pongo but she was having issues turning on. So I had to do some vinegar wipe Downs of her battery pack to get her to turn on and then because she doesn't talk they didn't really communicate. But that's okay.Lil John will not turn on. I think I have to take the skin off and manually restart the motor. Because she's in a down position and not sleeping position? At least that's what my research has shown. I still don't feel completely comfortable doing that but we'll see what happens. I might try that on Saturday when I have the day off.

I played with those for a while and then watch the video. At 8 I went down to the basement to work on some art finally. I traced all of the watercolor flowers I have made and cut them all out. And I'm very pleased with how they look. Talking to Jess I think a tentative plan is that we're going to do one wreath a month. So this will be a much smaller scale project. But I want to be able to spend more time on the research and the sketching and all of the parts that go behind this project. So this one will be for the month of January even though it's mostly done at this point. I want to get some more research done for one's going forward and not rush. And if I can make more than one a month that's fine. But Jess is also doing it actual Hands-On part and she works differently than me. So I don't want to rush her either. Or make her feel like it's homework. It's supposed to be a fun thing.

I went and checked the mail and the Magnetic eyelashes I had purchased came. They are very silly. I cut them in half because I felt like they were too long. And it's definitely a look. Maybe for like a special event or something but I can't imagine actually wearing them for more than an hour or so. It's a very bizarre product.

I've been laying in bed for a while now though. Trying to get this post done trying not to be distracted by sweet pea. I really just want to get some sleep.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to wake up and work on some art again. Maybe clean something. Teaching all afternoon. Finishing hanging up our art. And then I'm supposed to have dinner with James. I have Friday and Saturday off. We were going to go to DC to go to the National Gallery on Friday but the government is still shut down. So I probably am not going to see that Rachel Whitehead show. But that's okay. I think we're going to try to do something else on Friday and then we might go ice skating. I hope it's just a nice day what's my favorite guy. Sleep well everyone. Stay warm.

[vael]

For the next X weeks, I'll be a meme. Behold Punished Vael, a play on the Punished Snake meme. In a conversation with my wife, I joked I was being punished for my past habits and decisions in many ways, and should take on the persona of Punished Vael. Well I'm all about shame and penance, so I've decided I will do that in the name of efficiency and personal growth.

y tho

What prompted this memery was mismanagement of my finances. I'm no high roller, but I put money where it matters most: food, the children, technology. I've been trying to "buy it once" and with another child planned, it's easy to justify big expenses for their betterment. The trouble was that my family could maintain this lifestyle on my income, but not after the recurring costs of a new SUV and my daughter's health insurance, in addition to all the big expenses since her birth. I simply ignored mint.com and went on living.

It was my job to relay our financial status to my wife, who handles the bulk of the shopping, and I failed to give an accurate representation of what we could afford. I'm ashamed to admit this was the first time in my life that I'd accrued interest on a credit card.

As punishment, I'm taking on some web dev work to make up for it. This hits me where it hurts the most: my free time, most of which I spend making games. A weaker man would say that slowing down my hobby work is forgivable when I have a baby, my 9-5 job, and now this upcoming contract, but that isn't going to be happening. At least not if I can help it. I'll talk about that at the end of this post.

But Wait, There's More

A few weeks ago I tried to make progress on my goal of 2021 to be "in the best shape I have ever been in." After a few days, I hurt my lower back from it, and my thoracic spine hasn't been in good shape since I injured it in 2018. This is from two decades of bad computer chair posture. I've always given my back problems some consideration, but never had a point in my life where I prioritized their recovery or at least improvement. The result is my body punishing me with less freedom of movement. I likely will be unable to achieve my fitness goals this year due to my lifestyle of being chained to a PC.

It isn't just my back: I've been lazy with my dry eye condition too. It hasn't been as inconvenient, but it's still something I should get ahead of. I've made (and have been following for two weeks now) a spreadsheet which I've taped to my wall to physically check off that I've done what I need to do to recover.

Then? Cognitive performance. I've tried and failed -- and will not fail again -- at being less distracted by websites and apps. My sleep habits are reprehensible: I need to get used to waking up at 6:15 for my son's school bus, but I'm consistently clocking out anywhere from 11:30 to midnight. I barely run Forest anymore.

So my short-term memory's shot. My long-term memory is suffering. I made a scary mistake driving (thankfully, solo). To think that games or social media usage could cause real harm to myself and those around me, all because I can't regulate myself, fills me with enough self-loathing to actually feel masochistic for Punished Vael.

Finally, I do want to briefly touch on my relationships. I've lost one friend this year and will likely lose another soon, and while the former was inevitable, the latter's had me really considering that I might have to dial back my natural candor. I am an "open book" (see: this post, my annual reviews) because I believe you should have nothing to fear about being yourself. I take ownership of my actions, even if I am not proud of them.

Something I had not considered was that my openness would encourage the other party to be open too, but then regret having done so. And, well, I'm intense. I want the best for people and my (sometimes unsolicited) advice can put them off, or make them feel pressured to perform or "keep up." I don't think that response is indicative of a weak relationship; I should probably learn to take it easier on others because not everyone operates how I do.

How Do?

I'm setting a very ambitious goal of simply not wasting any time in my day. Ultra efficiency for as long as I can meme. Every time I want to reach for my phone, or Facebook, or linger too long on some bullshit, I'll try to remember what's most important right now.

If I do a good job of it, it will be unsustainable, of course. I'm setting aside two hours of "solid" recreation for myself each night, and one hour of "fluid" recreation throughout the day: talking to friends, checking on my games, swinging by a pokéstop on the way home, etc. That's 3/16 hours of each day for myself, and I'll be doing this every day, including weekends. I'll be a little more forgiving with any "family time fun" like watching a movie, but the focus will still be on production and efficiency.

The other 13 hours will be spent on work, family, and repairing my body. I'll be trying to run Forest as often as I can. I expect to be blasting Meaningwave to help keep myself motivated with the likes of Jordan Peterson and Jocko Willink. I don't know for how long I'll do this, but I can't imagine it ending before August. Certainly the contract I'm taking on will not.

So... time to get started. Thanks for reading.

Vael