I've been moody today, I'll confess. And it's likely largely hormonal. I would like to be above such things, but I am not. And, much like the celiac disease, while force of will no doubt could have some marginal impact, the fact is the cost/benefit ratio is shit. And so it goes. I also suspect, that after days of rain, the nice weather merely confused me. And Sundays always put me out of sorts -- I loathe the fact that I need a day to recoup, but always spend it in frustration at not doing more.
After battles untold -- damn, I can't even quite remember that line from Labrynth (yes, yes, I was no doubt mesmerized by David Bowie's package too) -- I managed to find one of the last available lodgings in all of New Haven for the Regency Ball. I'm even pleased with the result. But oh my heavens, what an unpleasant little clusterfuck of a process (involving, at one turn, an historic mansion infested with elaborately costumed Barbie dolls). I should have done it earlier, although, from what I've since learned about hotel rooms in New Haven in October, that probably would not have made much difference. Regardless, something I'm very excited for is now fully under control.
I, like all the people who followed my rec, did lose much of the day to reading a story recently rec'ed on
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snapecast. I also had some work to do that bordered on the ridiculous. Tonight, because I largely only write at night, I'll do some stuff for AC and noodle about with some fic as well.
I caught the end of Apollo 13 on television, which I love. I know it's really important, that the world wouldn't run well, if everyone were a leader, if everyone wanted to be _the_ person to change or innovate or make some huge impact, but I'll never understand why everyone doesn't want to, or why so many people get so puzzled by me. And heavens, watching movies like that makes everything seem petty.
For a long time, since I was eight or nine, sometimes, I get shooting pains in my neck. Sharp, so bad I gasp and can't talk while they are happening, and I am not a sissy about pain. Sometimes they happen often, other times not so much. I've always called it my pinched nerve, but I never have known what it was. I also have all these spots on my ribcage that go numb when I lay down to sleep -- that's been going on for ten years at least. I've sort of worried about it off and on, but not really. So hey -- probably nerve damage from celiac. Awesome.
I am in this place where I want to apologize to people a lot lately, for things, largely, far in the past. Some of these things are reasonable, others not. In some cases this is me just sloppily looking for a way to discuss matters that probably haven't mattered in a long time, often, to people I no longer speak to. It's a confusing emotion, and I don't like it. Apology is something I have to be disciplined with. I don't always apologize when I should, but I used it for so long as an act of abasement, it remains necessary to me, even at this late date to err on the side of rudeness. I know I should never apologize for the depth or suddenness of my emotions, nor should I ever use anything at all to excuse my bad behavior -- but I was poisoning myself and making myself crazy and I didn't know. It doesn't matter. Even explanations and apologies I'd still be the crazy discarded girl. Where does this sort of feeling sorry for myself come from, I'm not sure -- I think the terrible weather, the hurricaine, it's been reminding me of a horrid weekend between Michael, I and a friend out on Long Island in a similar storm. I spend enough time writing fanfiction about Severus Snape to know it's not very useful to be ashamed of who you used to be, especially if you've finally learnt not to be ashamed of who you are, but the world is all echoes and circles for me, and so sometimes in memory, I'm a fool. Aren't we all?
Sundays bite.
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