Category Archives: angst

looking all pale and tragic

Posted in angst, everyday kimli by

I am tired of having red hair. Later this month, I will be returning to black. I will probably get tired of that soon enough and go back to red, but in the meantime I am mousy and disapproving.

Also, I am hormonal. I’ve been sitting at my desk for about two hours, completely enveloped in a white paper bucket of sad – for absolutely no reason. I am blue and melancholy. I am knee-deep in funk. I am wallowing in drama that does not exist. Even though I am lending credence to Ed’s theory that I often complain about having nothing to complain about, I am in fact sad that I am sad. Since that is obviously not anything a normal person would do – yes, I know I’m not the poster child for normal, but still – it must be hormones. I am pre-menstrual. Bring on the ice cream!

As much as I would like for this funk to disappear so I can go back to being jolly, it is in some small way a welcome sign of things to come. You see, last weekend I experienced .. things. Odd things, happening to my person. Since there was no logical reason for the nausea, vertigo, cravings or huge mood swings, I automatically self-diagnosed myself a pregnancy. To say “umm, oops” is but a drop in Understatement Ocean – but there was nothing else I could find that would fit. It didn’t help that over the course of my many accidents and injuries, I had been less than mechanical about taking my anti-baby medication. In fact, I fucked off probably close to a week’s worth of estrogen, skipped and then made up doses at random points during the week, and had unprotected sex with thousands of men, women and monsters with penis-like tentacles. All of this just added to my “Whoops, Baby” theory – it’s not just me being paranoid and overdramatic, it’s grounded in unlikely-but-still-possible truth. My current funk, delightful acne, and general all-around bloatie, mood-swingie self makes me think that perhaps the Festival of Menstruation will take place as planned. Ultimately, that would be a good thing. I’d just like to stop being sad, is all.

So! Who wants to cheer me up?

Durrrr…

Posted in angst, fuuuuuuuu, medical anomaly by

Kim relocated? Redislocated? her shoulder being the superstar that she is. She thinks she popped it back in, but can’t be sure. She didn’t want to go to the hospital only to wait for another 4 hours to see the x-ray idiots, so she’s whimpering and gasping every time she moves. Here’s hoping she has the sense to see a doctor tomorrow :(

when i wish upon a star

Posted in angst, i'm an astronaut by

Nothing is good about anything.

I’m a puppet astronaut in a small space station. I say “puppet” not because I am a figurehead hiding the actions of an ominous committee of evil, but because I am a wooden puppet who longs to be a real boy.

I knew I was to be a puppet astronaut when I first started working here, but was promised by the blue fairy that in 6 months’ time, all us astronaut puppets would be turned into real boys with benefits and vacation time and sick days and all the perks that come with having a real job being a real live boy. The 6 month mark rolled by, and the blue fairy said oh! We’re so busy with all the wonderful things that you will benefit from, please give us some more time to turn you into real boys! The puppet astronauts were satisfied by the efforts being made, and continued to work with their cute little wooden fingers and darling little wooden brains.

Six more months passed, and the puppet astronauts had been in space for a whole year. Surely the time had come to be turned into real boys! Oh, but wait said the blue fairy. The time is just not right – give us six more months and we’ll wave our magic wand and turn you into a real boy. We mean it this time! To prove we really do, please take this increase of 16% of one chicken – see, now you’re only 84% of a chicken away from making what you should be! It’s so close you can taste .. oh, right, not a real boy – no tongue. Sorry.

It hasn’t been three months yet; barely one and a half. My colourful puppet paint is starting to wear off, and my space goggles no longer have their rosy tint. I have some serious doubts about the legitimacy of the “we’ll make you a real boy” claim – just today I was told by the blue fairy that it’s still another six months away. I am tired of hearing “in six months”. I want to be a real boy NOW. I haven’t been a real boy since 2002 – that is a long time to go without any love at all.

There’s more than just the real boy issue, too. I currently work in tech support. I do not want to work in tech support. I was not hired to do tech support, and I have been promised time and time again that I will not be stuck doing tech support. Just give us some more time, cooed the blue fairy. Changes are in the works and you’ll be doing super awesome projects soon. Patience!

I have been patient. I have been upbeat. I have tried to look at the bright side of things; basking in the wooden adoration of our clients when I solve their problems over and over and over again. I keep reaching for that wooden carrot, knowing that my efforts at being a team player are appreciated and valued. Soon I will be a real boy! Soon I will say goodbye to tech support and work on projects of varying degrees of awesome!

That was before yesterday. Yesterday, the blue fairy told me bluntly that there is no light at the end of my tech support tunnel – we are absolutely definitely 100 percentedly not bringing on any other puppet astronauts to take over some of the tech support so you can do other things. Nope, sorry. You will be doing tech support for – wait for it – at least six more months; possibly 8 or 9. We just can’t do it. Sorry, old puppet. It sucks to be you.

So, where are we now? I’m a puppet astronaut stuck working in a role I hate. There is no end in sight, and we do not know when the blue fairy will turn us into real boys. That’s pretty bad, but it’s not SO bad right?

You should know me well enough by now to know that there’s ALWAYS more:

Our space station is moving. I started working on the project, because I’ve done far larger, far more corporate space station moves before. I’m well-equipped and organized, and most importantly, I am in the space station day in and day out and I know where everything is, where everything should go, what everyone’s phone numbers are, and what they’re allergic to. I can easily move our space station. Sure, the blue fairy left the fine details like where we were moving to until literally 28 days before we have to move, but I can handle it. I thrive on insane situations, remember? I can do this, splinters and all.

I did express a bit of wooden frustration yesterday, because tech support is extremely busy and I am trying to plan a space station move that leaves all our puppet astronauts without an office for a week or more due to the extremely poor planning. Still, the move is something I am perversely looking forward to tackling because of all the little details involved and also because it is not tech support.

The blue fairy picked up on my stress level, and decided to help me by taking the move project away so I can concentrate on tech support. Never mind that I want to do the move. Never mind that I hate tech support. Never mind that the blue fairy basically sentenced me to an open term in a role they promised wouldn’t be mine. Never mind everything; here’s a punishment for all your hard work. Why are you so unhappy? Just look at all the things we’ve promised for six months down the road!

I am more sad than anything else, because I desperately wanted this space station to work out and be a home for me.

shaking a fist at gravity

Posted in angst by

The ONE TIME I could really USE some disposable underwear for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with menstruation or leftover semen, do you think I can find any? NO. I am beyond upset.

I am wearing a skirt today, and since it’s a light colour, I thought that perhaps wearing my usual goth panties might be a bad idea. I fished around in my underwear drawer and came up with a pair of plain white undies that had been shoved in the back. Excellent, I thought. These will go very nicely under my skirt and then everything will be super.

Well, things are not super. They’re not super at ALL. It didn’t dawn on me until after I had spent a good four minutes fiddling around under my skirt trying to hike up my wayward panties that perhaps there was an excellent reason this pair was hidden in the back of my drawer – namely, they are THE WORST UNDERWEAR KNOWN TO MAN. I can’t take three steps without having them fall down – I had to walk three blocks with my underwear bunched under my ass, my legs clenched tight lest they shimmy down to my ankles. Gravity has it in for me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I went to the drugs store looking for disposable panties so I could replace the cotton horror lurking under my skirt, but they were nowhere to be found. I am pretty much trapped in my work chair until I can go home – I’m deathly afraid of accidentally exposing my shame to all of Yuppie Town (where they frown on that sort of thing).

Oh, my angst!

I am not wholly convinced our new intern is not an axe murderer.

who’s up for eating some worms

Posted in angst, i'm an astronaut, nerd, vroom vroom by

It’s almost spring! How do I know this?

  • My allergies have kicked into overdrive
  • I got my first scooter parking ticket of the season

Even though I haven’t been able to ride Sally since October because of the weather, I already have a parking ticket to add to my Wall of Shame. This one is special, because it’s just a warning – and I received it IN FRONT OF MY APARTMENT.

I needed somewhere to store Sally during the winter, so I made an arrangement with our landlord to park Sally in front of our building, locked to the fence. Sally sat there for 5 months without any problems, until yesterday when someone took offence – and lo, a parking ticket. Hooray! It is totally awesome; not being able to park your scooter anywhere – not even on non-city-owned property with permission from the owner. I swear, I’m trying awfully hard to go green and be a completely convenient truth, but I’m getting foiled at every non-turn and I can’t even ride anywhere yet. This sucks.

Other things that suck: the weather, Samsung’s support department, blue screens of death, day 3 of my headache, and having a client complain about your department (ie: me) being “too young and tech-savvy” to do the job properly. When the job in question is training people to use our software, I would generally think that being “tech-savvy” is a good thing – and hey, when you’ve been trained four separate times and you still don’t get it, perhaps the problem isn’t with the young tech-savvy people training you but with your complete inability to use technology more advanced than a microwave oven. Just sayin’.

This is not a good Tuesday. In fact, my only happy is coming from MacBeth – iTunes insists on repeating “Family Reunion” by Blink182 many times during the day. The joy is in the lyrics; the only words of the song are “shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits fart turd and twat”, which excellently sums up how I feel about pretty much everything right now.

zest for the counterproductive

Posted in angst, nerd by

I forgot my cell phone at home today, so anyone trying to get a hold of me with have some difficulty in doing so (she says, like she ever gets any phone calls at all).

I’m having an issue with my beloved Q1B, and I am having a devil of a time getting support for it. This makes me very sad, because I have many things I want to do with it but I can’t because it needs a doctor. Compounding the issue is the non-availability of Q1Bs in Canada – I can’t even call up support for help, because they don’t have access to them. My calls have been rerouted down to the US twice, and each time I was disconnected. FIX MY TOY! I AM SAD AND LOST WITHOUT IT! I just sold my PDA too, so I don’t even have a backup available – this sucks. How can I have truly excellent wireless adventures when my toys need fixing? I can’t, that’s how. I hate living an analog life.

A half-asleep conversation with Ed over the weekend has made me remember the recurring nightmare I used to have as a child. In the dream I’d be standing on the corner by our old house, watching my mother return from being gone for a long long time – and she’d always be walking up the hill, carrying a bag from Woodward’s, and stumping along on her peg leg.

I can’t even begin to imagine what the deeper meaning behind that dream is – abandonment issues? Fear of both pirates and my mother? Nostalgia for a bankrupt department store? I keep going back to the peg leg – while it was terrifying at the time, it’s hilarious now. Hee. Stumpy mom.

Okay, back to working and also trying to find someone to fix my poor Q1B.

lovelorn

Posted in angst by

I’m a terrible cat mom.

I don’t deal very well with things that don’t love me, and sometimes I find myself downright disliking our youngest cat, Hobble. I get really tired of trying so very hard to get him to at least acknowledge my presence only to have him literally step over me to lavish Ed with adoration – while most of the time I stare at him sadly and wonder what I did to make him hate me so; sometimes I find myself thinking very nasty thoughts at the 20lb gray cat o’ lard. Like right now. Having to share your household with something that hates you really does suck. It also makes me worry that when we DO get a pug, Ed will work his voodoo again and I’ll be stuck with another animal that does not love me in return. I do not handle rejection well. Why don’t you love me, you stupid cat.

Hmpf.

just nod if you can hear me

Posted in angst, everyday kimli by

I am getting the distinct impression I Tommy Westphall’d my entire childhood until 1991.

I’ll wait a second so you can Wiki the reference and get yourself comfortable inside my head –

Okay then. I am worried about the state of my past. I’ve been online since the dawn of time, and in that time frame, I haven’t found anyone from my past.

Elaborate? Gladly. As the internet grew, I hopped on the bandwagons of all the latest “make and find friends!” fad websites. Most of the time I used these sites to keep in touch with people I already talked to on a regular basis, or to make myself look super cool by seeming to have many friends. In all the time I’ve been online, through all the many different friend-collecting sites, I have never found ANYONE that I was friends with in school. I’ve used classmate finding sites, MySpace, FaceBook, Orkut, Friendster – you name it, and I have an account there and have tried in vain to find anyone I knew in real life before I received my first computer with modem. Every person I know today I know from AFTER the computer was my only social outlet – all my oldest friends are from the STS. I think back and say “Oh, I’ve known ‘nee and Brooks and Mike and Matt forever!” – true, but only if you think of “forever” as starting after 1991. Elementary school, junior high, senior secondary – can’t find anyone. My best friends, my worst enemies, people I never had any dealings with yet I remember their names – nothing. No sign of them anywhere. Can it really be that out of 13 years of school acquaintances, I am the ONLY ONE who uses the internet? That seems incredibly unlikely – we didn’t graduate (or in my case, not graduate) so long ago that technology would be far beyond the capabilities of our generation, especially when you consider that we are (were?) the very definition of Generation X. Where IS everyone? Why can’t I find ANY of my classmates online?

What other conclusion can I come to, other than “they never existed”? Did I dream my entire life until 1992? Was my entire childhood just a fantasy? Did I retcon everything I knew before 1991? Holy shit, am I the Matrix?

Great. Now I’m not going to be able to talk to anyone without wondering if they’re real or just a figment of the Kimli Wangzilla Universe.

On the upside, that would make everything really and truly all about me. Hah!

case of the tuesdays

Posted in angst, everyday kimli by

I’m strangely melancholy this morning, for reasons that utterly escape me. It’s beautiful outside, I have a cup full of icy Diet Coke in front of me, the phone is quiet, and stuff is overall pretty grood. So what’s up? Why am I beset with this rattling case of the blues?

Honestly, the only thing I can find even remotely wrong is my desperate need for a haircut. That might actually be the source of all my problems, as stupid as it sounds – I’ve gone a very long time without feeling even a little spark of “yay for me”, and that sucks.

I don’t have the most stable of self-images, and pretty much the only thing that keeps me afloat and not hiding in the closet are my occasional days of utter fabulousness. My sense of sublime has been sorely missing in action though, and it’s bringing me down. I *like* the days where I feel dazzling and cute. They don’t happen often, but I certainly appreciate them when they do. Lately I’ve been wallowing in the winter blahs, a zaftig serving of the drab housewife frump. I need .. something. A great haircut, some new ridiculous glittery thing, a kick to the rear with a 2×4 of pure glee. I hate being stuck in any kind of funk that does not involve rainbow glitter platform boots and feather boas.

in space no one can hear you cry

Posted in angst, i'm an astronaut by

The Space Station is making me sad.

I don’t like this feeling, because I really do like the company and the people I work with. The majority of my sadness comes from what my job has become – at the moment, I’m a receptionist/tech support monkey, not the Project Managing Internet Superstar I’m supposed to be.

My Space Bosses keep promising me awesome projects that’ll dazzle and amaze, but for the time being I’m stuck doing tech support and it’s absolutely bringing me down. It doesn’t help that the main phone line just happens to be on my desk, so I get every phone call that doesn’t go to the sales line. Between answering the phone and responding to support requests all day long, I don’t have time to even begin doing any prep work for these awesome projects I’m supposed to be working on soon. The few projects I DID have were overrun by the office control freak, so I was squeezed out of a lot of things including the upcoming office move. Oh, I’ll still be involved, but my role has watered down to being the person who tapes up the boxes once they’re all packed – a far cry from what I can and want to do. Throw in my daily battles with an extremely obnoxious client (seriously, if you sell hemp clothing, shouldn’t you be a laid-back hippie instead of a giant asshole?), and I’m just really stressed out and sad and dreading my 9-5 stint of answering the phone all day long.

—

Sorry, I just had to go greet some clients at the front door and usher them in to their meeting with the sales guy. I should probably go see if they need coffee. I am the saddest little astronaut in the whole space station.