Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers
cydniey

Dear Diary, I Can Feel Accomplished?

Dear Diary,


I can’t stop. I thought it was all about the shop and the jewelry and making extra scratch to help us out. But it’s not. The shop is filled. My supplies are dwindling. And I’m still going like the Energizer fucking rabbit.


I finally gave in last night and decided to turn in and get an early start today. But before I could lay down, I had to write out a poem. But the poem quickly became a punk song. A really good punk song. One I thought I’d heard a long time ago, but hadn’t. One that finally formed, fully, in my head. So I had the lyrics in my notebook, and the tune in my head, with no way to get it out.


My guitar is still out of commission because it is not a priority with me, and I don’t have any other instruments. I can’t read or write music, it never made any sense to me. I don’t seem to be able to correlate the sound in my head to the symbols on the paper/screen. So this tune is trapped inside my head, on a timer. It is going to expire at some point and be lost like so many other things to my gaping hole of a memory. I have put a desperate call out for assistance on FB, looking for an app that I can use as an instrument to try to compose the song or something. ANYthing so that I don’t lose this. I have no idea what I will do with it. It is just really important to me that I keep it. “Last Cigarette” is my punk opus to date.


I was feeling bad about laying about and taking yesterday evening off to relax (?), then realized that I worked 9 hours yesterday without a break, and made a right mess doing it. So, I put my time in, yesterday. Today I want to take some replacement pictures, and work on smashbooks and CD kits some more. Once people get a look at those, I will have loyal return customers to see what new I have come up with. Though the record bowl designs (far superior to most others) and price, should garner me some loyalty in itself. I just need time and exposure, I’m confident in my product.


That’s the difference between “starting your own business” to hock a fake diet product, where you sit on your ass and make social media posts/accounts all day; and “starting your own business” to offer quality goods to people, though they may not need them. It is petty of me to make that distinction, but it is still important. One deserves support. The other needs re-education.


Gah, it takes me so long to wake up in the morning. I mean, I’m doing stuff, little things. Measuring this, printing that, organizing these. But I haven’t started anything, really, yet. I guess that’s okay. I can’t expect myself to go from sedentary to working 18 hours a day right away. Or at all. That is unrealistic. That is why I crash (and I mean, literally, crash, hit a wall) and sleep like the dead for three hours and then wake up like I was shot. I am pushing myself too hard. I have way too many chainsaws up in the air, and I don’t even know how to juggle. I really should put something down.


Jesus, just how many email messages were stored on my server? I can’t directly access the server through the web for some reason I don’t want to bother my host about, so I am having to download and delete a seeming endless stream of old emails from my server to sync up the email on my new phone. Five at a time. I’m on April 3 right now. And my phone will only load 20 messages at a time. I’ve been at this since 10pm last night. Silly technology quirks. Once this is done, I will almost have my phone completely set up. I’ll just need to install Twitter and sort out Tumblr and all will be right with the phone.


Facebook lasted two days on my phone. FB Messenger lasted one. Messenger put people’s faces all over my screen. As much as I love you all, I don’t want to look at you while I’m doing something else. And there was no way to get rid of the pictures. Facebook itself stopped me from downloading and installing any other apps, saying all of my storage was gone, when a check showed that it clearly was not. So Facebook had to go. I tolerate their shit on my computer, won’t put up with it on my phone.


I found the solution to ALL of my gardening problems: lower the temperature in the room. Sounds simple. It isn’t. The lights put off a LOT of heat. It is affecting flower and trichome production, now. I have to come up with money to get new, cooler, LED lights. $200 will cover the closet. That will stop me having to keep the a/c down really low 12 hours a day and blowing all of the air into the room with a series of fans. So, no rats for a while. I’m still determined to get my Wacom Tablet by the end of this (my birthday) month. But I put off the rats to borrow the money to help Doc, and I’ll put them off another month to get the lights. That will take us into the next crop cycle. After that is taken care of, we can start worrying about strains. But we have two good ones right now, so I don’t see that being a bit priority for us in the near future. I’m so glad I worked that out. Maybe Doc can sell the old equipment on Craigslist or trade it for bike/truck repairs or something. It’s all good stuff, just old. It’s been taken well care of. Lights, and bubble buckets and all sorts of gardening gear that we don’t have room for that we should get the money out of. I’ll talk to him about that today.


Okay, I’m ready to work now. Got my email sorted. I’m going to print out this lovely Union Jack I found in the public domain and make a photo transfer with it onto a silver CD tin to use as a base for a Brit-rock themed mix kit. I also still have all of that glittering to do. And a jewelry tin to line. Those can go up for sale today. My first Mokume Gane item in the shop. A big day. It’s little odds and ends day, I think. Get the little things done and off my tables and into the completed and listed inventory dresser. Yes, I have a dresser, in the kitchen, that I am keeping everything I listed in. No dust. Safe from animals. Easy to find. And easy to keep the jewelry completely organized in open candy boxes, filed in labeled ziplock sandwich bags. I’m ready, I tell you.

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