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cthulhia
She recommends setting up private rituals for myself. Only you really know how you need to observe your birthday.
Last birthday was celebrated by signing up for unemployment.
As it turned out (aside from being the least mood-swing filled part of the actual date), that was the kick in thepants finances needed to get my agency to start throwing me a sufficient number of bones. I still have yet to collect any unemployment. Had I applied for it when I was supposed to, instead of letting pride goad me to wait until things were desperate, I would be entirely out of debt now. Grrrr.
If possible...
(ok, I am going to fucking kill my coworker who keeps trying to sneak up behind me and make me feel guilty for typing in my journal while waiting until my color jobs are definitely through the queue, I am not falling behind schedule, so shove off)
... I will be employed next birthday. Employed enough to take the day off without stress.
This is why I didn't take today off. Even though I had only 4.5 hours of sleep. As I was laying there in bed, deciding I was too ill from sleep-deprivation so I should call in sick, I could already see the day fill in. Maybe a few more hours of sleep, go to the gym, mail packages, mail family holiday cards, finish the icehouse pyramid gingerbread cookies in time for tonight, go to the part-time gig in watertown and get that one photo online, give my college-ex/cow-orker a ride and get my scanner back from him, go get blood drawn because my levoxyl dosage is borderline and I totally forgot about this by august (and had the time!), when he wanted me to deal with it.
However, once I declared it a day off, I'd probably let Fling know. He made recent noises about how ain't it a shame our schedules never cooperate and wouldn't it be nice to do lunch? I like him a lot and think he's a real nice boy, but he is a black hole of productivity. Especially for me, granted, but still. Anyway...
And, finally, I have actual work to do. Yay.
Last birthday was celebrated by signing up for unemployment.
As it turned out (aside from being the least mood-swing filled part of the actual date), that was the kick in the
If possible...
(ok, I am going to fucking kill my coworker who keeps trying to sneak up behind me and make me feel guilty for typing in my journal while waiting until my color jobs are definitely through the queue, I am not falling behind schedule, so shove off)
... I will be employed next birthday. Employed enough to take the day off without stress.
This is why I didn't take today off. Even though I had only 4.5 hours of sleep. As I was laying there in bed, deciding I was too ill from sleep-deprivation so I should call in sick, I could already see the day fill in. Maybe a few more hours of sleep, go to the gym, mail packages, mail family holiday cards, finish the icehouse pyramid gingerbread cookies in time for tonight, go to the part-time gig in watertown and get that one photo online, give my college-ex/cow-orker a ride and get my scanner back from him, go get blood drawn because my levoxyl dosage is borderline and I totally forgot about this by august (and had the time!), when he wanted me to deal with it.
However, once I declared it a day off, I'd probably let Fling know. He made recent noises about how ain't it a shame our schedules never cooperate and wouldn't it be nice to do lunch? I like him a lot and think he's a real nice boy, but he is a black hole of productivity. Especially for me, granted, but still. Anyway...
And, finally, I have actual work to do. Yay.
