September 30th, 2015

2013, cyd, new

My tweets

2013, cyd, new

I do not feel the least bit inspired.

I've been trying to live an unrealistic way recently. And that was to force myself to create something every day. That is just not realistic for me. I can do promotion, or I can do creation or I can do nothing or I can work with my hands. And I usually go through three of those in one hours-long session and burn myself out for 36 hours or so. And that is where I am right now.

The record bowl argument culminated in Doc purchasing a brand new set of clear Pyrex nesting mixing bowls for me to use exclusively to melt things in and on. He also bought me two loaf pans, both Pyrex, to make the book ends. Those don't actually go into the oven, they are made with really hot water. So, win. He also went through the records today and gave me his blessing on using any of them. I will save the ones I think he will like. And the oldest ones. I will still be using a lot of vinyl from the 60's. Oooh, I can add the word "vintage" to the sales copy. Bonus.

I think if I just get up and do one thing, it will set off the waterfall of doing things. First thing, try to splice together the wires Major chewed through on the old Trackball. That would help things for Doc, who spends most of his gaming time arguing aloud at the touchpad on Scout. I feel his pain. I found my wire strippers, and I have my electrical tape, and I'm ready for the challenge. What challenge I am not ready for is moving the three tripods, with legs and cables intertwined, a painting on glass, and a big, flat board so I can get to the drawer in the sideboard that holds the components of the Trackball.

Yay! Three unadulterated hours of the Big Bang Theory! Nice background noise for whatever it is that I do tonight.

I did get a lot of sleep. If I can get ambitious, I wouldn't mind another all-nighter. So long as I have enough to do, and reading doesn't count, I have to do that during the day. My eyes cross if I try to read when it is dark out. My brain has always put really silly conditions on reading. We used to spend hours in the car, driving places. And I used to spend hours in the car, alone, sitting and waiting for my parents for hours at a time. But as soon as I learned to read, I discovered I got violently ill whenever I read in a car. Even if it wasn't moving. So, all that time spent in cars was wasted. How much could I have read? Volumes and volumes. So, I've always been weird about reading. Now I can't read after dark, unless I am in a really bright, windowless room, like my bathroom, taking a bath. Odd, or is it Ood (Google it, Lilliane, Oods are cool)?