quoting Morrígan, Countess:What the fuck kind of autocorrect is that and why do you even have it turned on?
Myself, because my typing accuracy is atrocious with my phone's keyboard size.
quoting Morrígan, Countess:And in the other universe, the me is cisgender, and kind of tomboyish and has bangs, and is a vegetarian, and has a bunch of tattoos and snakebite piercings and is totally comfortable with her sexuality.
tomboys <3
quoting Rhetorica, Duchess of Canada:I don't regret it at all! The best part of autocorrect is contaminating its dictionary with a bunch of conlang words and discovering it now thinks that slight mistakes are suddenly barely-related shút.
I've had autocorrected Lilitika show up in English conversations.
quoting Nessari, Illúbequía, Seattle, Cascadia:quoting Morrígan, Countess:What the fuck kind of autocorrect is that and why do you even have it turned on?
Myself, because my typing accuracy is atrocious with my phone's keyboard size.
Fair. I do all my real typing on a full keyboard, so autocorrect is totally alien to me.
Actual Grr:
So after a ~2 week hiatus, I took one vyvanse pill on Sunday (my scrip is 3/day), and had an amazingly productive day. Thinking I'd be cautious, I took one again yesterday. It worked during the day, but after I got to work it wore off and what I can only describe as withdrawal symptoms started kicking in. Mild ones, to be sure (they culminated with me walking into oncoming traffic on the way home :/ ), but enough to get me to do stuff. Specifically to swear off this crap entirely, and seriously (re)consider whether I ever want to be on stimulants again.
So after a ~2 week hiatus, I took one vyvanse pill on Sunday (my scrip is 3/day), and had an amazingly productive day. Thinking I'd be cautious, I took one again yesterday. It worked during the day, but after I got to work it wore off and what I can only describe as withdrawal symptoms started kicking in. Mild ones, to be sure (they culminated with me walking into oncoming traffic on the way home :/ ), but enough to get me to do stuff. Specifically to swear off this crap entirely, and seriously (re)consider whether I ever want to be on stimulants again.
Sadpost is sad
Warning: Sadpost not Grrpost
My cat is being taken to the vet to be euthanized right now.
Mollie is 9 years old, a tailless (by birth defect) calico. That's her in a nutshell, but she was so much more.+I'm probably going to be jumping between tenses all through this. I don't care about making them consistent right now. Her lack of a tail (she has the most adorable little tuffet which she can only kinda twitch) defined her life, and brought it to a premature end, I have no doubt. Because of it she was missing several key muscles (no tail, no anchor points for them) needed to poop. This led to her needing extra fluids for lubrication so the poor little girl could push anything out; She would try so hard to push, getting in all sorts of positions to make it happen easier, it was heartbreaking to watch her get frustrated. Eventually this led to her colon becoming so stretched-out that it had to be removed. Since she required constant attention (mostly in the form of making sure she got her extra fluids), she socialized as a somewhat needy kitty. Add this to her oh-so classic calico attitude and you got a tough independent little I-don't-need-you-I'm-my-own-girl kitty who also loved to be babied.
She was the runt of the litter, an acquaintance of ours saw that she needed extra special care and mentioned this to my parents, who were considering getting another cat as two of our much-loved girls1 were getting quite a bit older, and Maggie (my little darling five year old at the time) was seriously lacking in an active playmate. They met her and hearts melted.
As you might imagine, she had a lot of medical problems over the years. Some people don't think you should spend any significant amount of money on a pet, but neither I nor my parents are remotely like that. She's a member of the family, and deserves the same level of care a human would get. I've never cared to find an exact figure, but the total spent was probably over US$25,000; the cost doesn't matter though, because she was priceless.
She'd gone into an increasingly fast decline over the last few months, and I'm sad that my moving to Seattle kept me from being there for her. But you can't let regret consume you, and I know my parents have done everything they could to give her the best life possible.
I'm going to miss this little furry ball of attitude and joy :""(
My cat is being taken to the vet to be euthanized right now.
Mollie is 9 years old, a tailless (by birth defect) calico. That's her in a nutshell, but she was so much more.+I'm probably going to be jumping between tenses all through this. I don't care about making them consistent right now. Her lack of a tail (she has the most adorable little tuffet which she can only kinda twitch) defined her life, and brought it to a premature end, I have no doubt. Because of it she was missing several key muscles (no tail, no anchor points for them) needed to poop. This led to her needing extra fluids for lubrication so the poor little girl could push anything out; She would try so hard to push, getting in all sorts of positions to make it happen easier, it was heartbreaking to watch her get frustrated. Eventually this led to her colon becoming so stretched-out that it had to be removed. Since she required constant attention (mostly in the form of making sure she got her extra fluids), she socialized as a somewhat needy kitty. Add this to her oh-so classic calico attitude and you got a tough independent little I-don't-need-you-I'm-my-own-girl kitty who also loved to be babied.
She was the runt of the litter, an acquaintance of ours saw that she needed extra special care and mentioned this to my parents, who were considering getting another cat as two of our much-loved girls1 were getting quite a bit older, and Maggie (my little darling five year old at the time) was seriously lacking in an active playmate. They met her and hearts melted.
As you might imagine, she had a lot of medical problems over the years. Some people don't think you should spend any significant amount of money on a pet, but neither I nor my parents are remotely like that. She's a member of the family, and deserves the same level of care a human would get. I've never cared to find an exact figure, but the total spent was probably over US$25,000; the cost doesn't matter though, because she was priceless.
She'd gone into an increasingly fast decline over the last few months, and I'm sad that my moving to Seattle kept me from being there for her. But you can't let regret consume you, and I know my parents have done everything they could to give her the best life possible.
Why are you shoving this strange thing in my face when it isn't covered in catnip, Nessie?
Here she is with Maggie, my little girl who was such an amazing mothering friend to Mollie. True partners in crime (and play).
I'm going to miss this little furry ball of attitude and joy :""(
_________________________
1. One of them, Minou, had the same over-the-top calico heritage which prepared us for Mollie quite well.
1. One of them, Minou, had the same over-the-top calico heritage which prepared us for Mollie quite well.
I worked like 1.5 hrs on this description of something in my conlang just to realize later that I made my translation that I commented on unnecessarily complicated, making part of my afternoon wasted time that I could have used to get my grip on my assigned reading back. But no, I needed to scratch that conlang itch ...
Also, my condolences, Ness.
Also, my condolences, Ness.
Is it too much to ask someone to make absolutely no noise in the morning, between ~4:30 and 7AM?
My landlady's SO leaves for work at around 7:15. This means he gets up between 4:30 and 5AM. I should note here that even during the evening after he gets home I often have problems with his voice, which is very deep and (to my ear, idk about what it's like to people without hypersensitivity) somewhat loud, compounded by the house's lack of interior insulation — aka I hear every damn thing that goes on in the living room, which I've just dealt with up 'til now. Anyways he gets up, and either has cereal while sitting on the couch (which is 10-15ft from my door), and constantly clanks his spoon on the bowl, or starts talking to someone (he generally keeps the TV to levels which don't bother me, thank the gods), which wakes me up; the absolute worst is when he manages to wake the dog up too, who is a spastic can't-sit-still bark-at-everything type, with her claws clicking very loudly on the wooden floors and her tag jingling constantly. It's gotten to the point where my body's been trained to wake up at 5, which means my normal ~3 hour variability in waking up, instead of being from 7-10 (which works perfectly fine) is from 2AM to 5 AM. I haven't said anything out of worry that it's just normal variation, and I have to suffer through it as another cost of having Asperger's, but this 2-5 bullshit is now actually going to start harming me, as I work schedules which range from 4PM running until 9PM. Only now, thanks to being consistently woken up at the asscrack of dawn, I'm starting to get tired at 9PM when I'm up at 5, I just got woken up at 3AM and I don't even want to think about what's going to happen tonight at work (which goes until 9PM). And I'm not even going into the sleep I'm not getting due to being a night owl.
Bottom line, is it within reason to require him to be entirely silent? I'm trying to look for other places to live, but the only promising (and really perfect, it was moving in with my best friend who I've stayed with extendedly before, working out exceedingly well) solution got torpedoed recently so I'm back to square one on that front and need something to change now.
(I've tried earplugs but they don't stay in, only doing so until awakening one out of 10 tries.)
My landlady's SO leaves for work at around 7:15. This means he gets up between 4:30 and 5AM. I should note here that even during the evening after he gets home I often have problems with his voice, which is very deep and (to my ear, idk about what it's like to people without hypersensitivity) somewhat loud, compounded by the house's lack of interior insulation — aka I hear every damn thing that goes on in the living room, which I've just dealt with up 'til now. Anyways he gets up, and either has cereal while sitting on the couch (which is 10-15ft from my door), and constantly clanks his spoon on the bowl, or starts talking to someone (he generally keeps the TV to levels which don't bother me, thank the gods), which wakes me up; the absolute worst is when he manages to wake the dog up too, who is a spastic can't-sit-still bark-at-everything type, with her claws clicking very loudly on the wooden floors and her tag jingling constantly. It's gotten to the point where my body's been trained to wake up at 5, which means my normal ~3 hour variability in waking up, instead of being from 7-10 (which works perfectly fine) is from 2AM to 5 AM. I haven't said anything out of worry that it's just normal variation, and I have to suffer through it as another cost of having Asperger's, but this 2-5 bullshit is now actually going to start harming me, as I work schedules which range from 4PM running until 9PM. Only now, thanks to being consistently woken up at the asscrack of dawn, I'm starting to get tired at 9PM when I'm up at 5, I just got woken up at 3AM and I don't even want to think about what's going to happen tonight at work (which goes until 9PM). And I'm not even going into the sleep I'm not getting due to being a night owl.
Bottom line, is it within reason to require him to be entirely silent? I'm trying to look for other places to live, but the only promising (and really perfect, it was moving in with my best friend who I've stayed with extendedly before, working out exceedingly well) solution got torpedoed recently so I'm back to square one on that front and need something to change now.
(I've tried earplugs but they don't stay in, only doing so until awakening one out of 10 tries.)
