<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679</id><updated>2024-08-29T19:43:35.952-04:00</updated><category term="Scattered Motivation"/><category term="ADD"/><category term="tired"/><category term="sleep"/><category term="work"/><category term="Criminal Minds"/><category term="adderall"/><category term="I&#39;m not dead yet"/><category term="alone"/><category term="babble"/><category term="ADD?"/><category term="Henry"/><category term="Money"/><category term="coffee"/><category term="crochet"/><category term="cute guy"/><category term="dream"/><category term="feeling sick"/><category term="fighting sleep"/><category term="fuck"/><category term="hallucinate"/><category term="hallucination"/><category term="haunted"/><category term="hearing things"/><category term="help"/><category term="job"/><category term="lonely"/><category term="lyrics"/><category term="mouse"/><category term="moving"/><category term="nanny"/><category term="nicknames"/><category term="rant"/><category term="someone needs a cat-nap"/><category term="stress"/><category term="whatever"/><category term="why?"/><category term="Agent Studly"/><category term="Allie Brosh"/><category term="Cafe"/><category term="Daria"/><category term="DiNozzo"/><category term="Fatal Frame"/><category term="Ghost Hunt"/><category term="I can&#39;t do this"/><category term="I don&#39;t care"/><category term="I think I&#39;m paranoid"/><category term="Jack"/><category term="NCIS"/><category term="Paranormal Witness"/><category term="Ritalin"/><category term="Spencer Reid"/><category term="Spider"/><category term="TMI"/><category term="Tabs!"/><category term="Unhappy"/><category term="Valentine&#39;s Day"/><category term="alliteration"/><category term="also"/><category term="and not a single fuck was given"/><category term="bike"/><category term="boring"/><category term="brother"/><category term="bunnies!"/><category term="caffeine"/><category term="cansado means tired"/><category term="cats"/><category term="chills"/><category term="cold"/><category term="compulsive biting"/><category term="crying is an emotion now"/><category term="curse you hindsight!"/><category term="date"/><category term="dating"/><category term="depression"/><category term="diet"/><category term="different"/><category term="disassociated"/><category term="dog"/><category term="don&#39;t wanna be here"/><category term="duh"/><category term="emo"/><category term="enable"/><category term="enjoy"/><category term="explain"/><category term="eye candy"/><category term="face blindness"/><category term="fanfics"/><category term="fanfiction"/><category term="first post"/><category term="fractured"/><category term="game"/><category term="good day"/><category term="guilt"/><category term="guys"/><category term="hair"/><category term="headache"/><category term="headaches. Coffee fail"/><category term="help me"/><category term="him again"/><category term="houses"/><category term="how do I adult?"/><category term="hurt"/><category term="hyperbole and a half"/><category term="internet"/><category term="it&#39;s not a crush"/><category term="knit. WTF"/><category term="lame"/><category term="loosing my mind"/><category term="midnight shift"/><category term="mind"/><category term="mom&#39;s crying again"/><category term="monster"/><category term="moody"/><category term="no"/><category term="not again"/><category term="pain"/><category term="panic"/><category term="parents"/><category term="pets"/><category term="poem?"/><category term="priorities"/><category term="random"/><category term="remember"/><category term="responsibilities"/><category term="retarded?"/><category term="scattered"/><category term="school"/><category term="sew"/><category term="sleepy babble"/><category term="snarky"/><category term="starbucks"/><category term="stop planting ideas in my head"/><category term="tangent"/><category term="thinking"/><category term="this shit takes effort"/><category term="visual novel"/><category term="when did this become a problem?"/><category term="who the fuck does play dates?"/><category term="wifi"/><category term="yes I really did say &#39;carp&#39;"/><title type='text'>Scattered Motivation</title><subtitle type='html'>My motivation is scattered. What more need I say?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-4097585332104872298</id><published>2019-07-02T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2019-07-02T13:22:31.368-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="enjoy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="game"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tangent"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thinking"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tired"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="visual novel"/><title type='text'>Fell on Black Days</title><content type='html'>Just finish playing a visual novel on Kongregate called Missed Messages. If you play it a second time, you have a chance to talk with your room mate. She&#39;s suffering from depression and can&#39;t find anything she enjoys. Going through the days, one after another. She can&#39;t do something she loves because she doesn&#39;t know what she loves.&lt;br /&gt;
I can relate to that.&lt;br /&gt;
I hate when people ask at work how I am because a lot of the time...I just am. Just going though the motions.&lt;br /&gt;
I know there&#39;s things I enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;
Swimming, learning Spanish (not that I&#39;m good at either), crochet, cross stitch.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe right now I&#39;m just tired. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Where was I going with this?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/4097585332104872298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2019/07/fell-on-black-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4097585332104872298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4097585332104872298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2019/07/fell-on-black-days.html' title='Fell on Black Days'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-2245291218273087452</id><published>2017-09-04T11:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2017-09-04T11:39:33.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nutshell</title><content type='html'>I&#39;d only be able to hurt them one more time if I killed myself.&lt;br /&gt;
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And yet I find&lt;br /&gt;
And yet I find&lt;br /&gt;
Reapeating in my head&lt;br /&gt;
&#39;If I can be my own&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;d feel better dead&#39;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/2245291218273087452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/09/nutshell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2245291218273087452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2245291218273087452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/09/nutshell.html' title='Nutshell'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-6829328373831488689</id><published>2017-05-20T00:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2017-05-20T00:47:25.238-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="feeling sick"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fighting sleep"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="why?"/><title type='text'>Stuck in my head</title><content type='html'>ᒛᐎᙜᓰᘓ&lt;br /&gt;
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no one&lt;br /&gt;
is coming to save you&lt;br /&gt;
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no one&lt;br /&gt;
is going to save you&lt;br /&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/6829328373831488689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/05/stuck-in-my-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6829328373831488689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6829328373831488689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/05/stuck-in-my-head.html' title='Stuck in my head'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-2296680250650397897</id><published>2017-01-19T01:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2017-05-20T00:48:00.474-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fuck"/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don&#39;t have to leave the door open anymore&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t have to leave the heater on&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t have to check under the dresser&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t have check to see if he&#39;s eaten&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t have to check for throw up&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t have to check to see where he is&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or wonder when it will happen&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Drifter was sick for longer than I knew&lt;br /&gt;
But he&#39;s not hurting anymore&lt;br /&gt;
He&#39;s not hungry&lt;br /&gt;
He&#39;s not sick&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still miss him</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/2296680250650397897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2296680250650397897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2296680250650397897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2017/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-8577012700385321681</id><published>2016-12-31T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2016-12-31T01:01:10.264-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="headaches. Coffee fail"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I think I&#39;m paranoid"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tired"/><title type='text'>Listen to Night Vale</title><content type='html'>There is a part of my mind that IS rational. It tells me that the headaches are due to not drinking enough water and that the constant tiredness is because of stress.&lt;br /&gt;
But that&#39;s just a small part.&lt;br /&gt;
There&#39;s a larger part of my mind that reads like webmd. It comes up with the worse possible scenario.&lt;br /&gt;
Headaches, sleepiness, emotions that are as inconsistent as a cat. Because cats don&#39;t give a fuck.&lt;br /&gt;
The coffee isn&#39;t working.&lt;br /&gt;
Am I dying?&lt;br /&gt;
No. I know better.&lt;br /&gt;
But webmd is so much Easier than actual research.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I should sleep. Why don&#39;t I let myself sleep?&lt;br /&gt;
Is it because it&#39;s comforting being in this half-there state-of-mind? Did I really need all those dashes?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can tell how stressed I am by how much I fall into the habit of daydreaming anime.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Good night, Internet. Good night.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/8577012700385321681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/12/listen-to-night-vale.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/8577012700385321681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/8577012700385321681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/12/listen-to-night-vale.html' title='Listen to Night Vale'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-2493649922089854806</id><published>2016-09-26T02:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2016-09-26T02:42:50.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Things are changing.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/2493649922089854806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/09/things-are-changing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2493649922089854806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2493649922089854806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/09/things-are-changing.html' title=''/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-965336864211716910</id><published>2016-02-20T05:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2016-02-20T05:20:26.991-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Criminal Minds"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cute guy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="DiNozzo"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="face blindness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="it&#39;s not a crush"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="NCIS"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleepy babble"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Spencer Reid"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Spider"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Valentine&#39;s Day"/><title type='text'>There&#39;s going to be a dream somewhere.</title><content type='html'>I told myself that I was going to go upstairs and get ready for bed once I found a stopping point in Dandelion, but it&#39;s easier to find an excuse to stay where I am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have you ever known that someone wasn&#39;t into you &lt;i&gt;that way, &lt;/i&gt;but had problems &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;reading into their actions?&lt;br /&gt;
Is it possible have a fondness (for lack of a better word) for someone without it being romantic?&lt;br /&gt;
How the fuck do emotions and feeling work?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was sweet, though. It was the first flower I&#39;d gotten for Valentine&#39;s Day that wasn&#39;t from my dad.&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t get the wrong idea. It was a single yellow carnation (btw, incase you wanted some random useless information, yellow roses mean friendship), but it was a flower. I love flowers.&lt;br /&gt;
Didn&#39;t matter that it was because &quot;I can&#39;t think of any worse person to be stuck with on Valentine&#39;s Day&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
If I hadn&#39;t been working, I would have been alone. Besides, he isn&#39;t as horrible as he thinks he is. At least, not all the time.&lt;br /&gt;
I think it was also a thank you for giving him a ride home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was also the time he walked me to my car, held my hand when we got closer to my car so I wouldn&#39;t slip on the ice, and then helped chip the ice off my windshields, even though I&#39;d told him I&#39;d be fine while my car defrosted.&lt;br /&gt;
Not that that was anything to read into. That was just really nice of him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But then there&#39;s the small things.&lt;br /&gt;
The way he acts when most of the other coworkers have left.&lt;br /&gt;
He can be pretty goofy sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;
He also let me grab some of his nachos. Mmm, nachos.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;He&#39;d never share his food with me,&quot;... &quot;I guess we know who his favorite(s) is(are)&quot; Or something like that. And that made me special.&lt;br /&gt;
Bitch, please. I was always special.&lt;br /&gt;
I guess this makes me more special.&lt;br /&gt;
Special.&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s a weird word now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oddly enough, when I start getting too attached or something, He ends up doing something that really pisses me off. It&#39;s like he has the Shining, and he knows he has to push me back before I get too weird or something.&lt;br /&gt;
But right now, it&#39;s comfortable. We get along, and it&#39;s the closest I&#39;ve gotten to a routine. As long as nothing is too different, I know what&#39;s expected of me. I know what needs to be done.&lt;br /&gt;
Now if only he&#39;d stop trying to correct me on things I&#39;m not wrong about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On a random note, I saw this good looking guy at work. Kinda reminded me of DiNozzo from NCIS. But I&#39;ve also seen a guy that looked like Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds on Metro, so it really doesn&#39;t mean anything. You see a lot of people look like a lot of other people when you have face blindness.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/965336864211716910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/02/theres-going-to-be-dream-somewhere.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/965336864211716910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/965336864211716910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2016/02/theres-going-to-be-dream-somewhere.html' title='There&#39;s going to be a dream somewhere.'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-3813292258172685021</id><published>2015-12-13T00:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2015-12-13T00:14:02.831-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="disassociated"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fractured"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="houses"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moving"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pets"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="scattered"/><title type='text'>Downsizing to Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;First house, 1-2-3-4-5 steps (no carpet), landing, left
face, 1-2-3-4-5-basement floor. Walk to the left, living room dining
room like a studio apartment maybe fridge but no kitchen, bathroom
behind one door. So many doors. Walk to the right instead, bedroom:
bed, end table, dresser, closet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Second house, 1-2-3-4-5 steps (warn carpet, barely
existing), triangle landing, swing to the left, 1-2-3-4-5-basement
floor.  Swing right around the support beam, lots of junk, computer,
access to laundry room. Straight instead, more junk, oh hey, there&#39;s
a futon. Bathroom behind one door, another door blocked by more junk
what&#39;s in there something in there (?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Third house, up 1-2-3-4 carpet steps, landing, right
face 1-2-landing right face 1-2-3-4-top floor. Left other bedroom.
Straight, bathroom nice bathroom. Right, bedroom. Big bed too big for
the room nice bed. Itty closet but most clothing is packed anyway,
dresser, mine. My room. Mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;First house, no pets, puppy, puppy didn&#39;t work out
because puppy took work, no puppy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Second house, four cats. Two run, pet two. Big floofy
loves sometimes. Mostly when noone else is around. None cuddly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Third house, two cats. Love love love love, kitties
love. Love kitties. Sit down kitty on lap. Kitty climb. Kitty claws
ow. Kitty purr. Open room other kitty enter. Kitties cuddle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;First house, Second house, Third house: Learn new
washer, learn new drier, learn dishwasher layout, learn light
switches, learn locks and keys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Moving moving moving. Learn to have fewer things. &lt;/span&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;The last time I moved, it only took two cars and one
trip to get all my stuff from one place to the other. &lt;/span&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.2in; margin-right: 0.2in; text-indent: 0.32in;&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;Will I even need help next time?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/3813292258172685021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/12/downsizing-to-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3813292258172685021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3813292258172685021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/12/downsizing-to-nothing.html' title='Downsizing to Nothing'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-4494908375878919503</id><published>2015-10-19T05:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2015-10-19T05:46:42.119-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stop planting ideas in my head"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="when did this become a problem?"/><title type='text'>When the fuck did this happen?</title><content type='html'>I never thought I&#39;d have this problem. Seems like something that you&#39;d see on one of those teenage shows on Disney or something.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The guy that I&#39;ve gone on two dates with (K) seems totally into me, but we don&#39;t text much except for planning dates and really only talk on said dates.&lt;br /&gt;
The guy that I&#39;ve been texting with (G) since he gave me his number at work makes me smile, even if it&#39;s only through texting. Just seeing that there&#39;s a message for me from him makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I enjoy hanging out with both of them.&lt;br /&gt;
Too bad K seems to be interested in me as more than friends. Because I don&#39;t feel anything more towards him as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;
Too bad G seems interested in just friendship. Because I&#39;m interested in something a little bit closer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then there&#39;s S (co-conspirator in customer service). Not because I&#39;m interested, but because she thinks Spider likes me. &quot;Like-likes you,&quot; is how she said it.&lt;br /&gt;
Well... What the fuck do I do with this information?&lt;br /&gt;
When she first said she thought he liked me I figured &quot;Sure, why not? He can trust me to get things done, I volunteer to stay late to (help) finish re-shops, and he can actually talk to me about random crap not work related.&lt;br /&gt;
So yeah, sure, he likes me. Doesn&#39;t hurt that (for the most part) we&#39;ve gotten past the psychological warfare.&lt;br /&gt;
Bonus points that I admitted to him that I understand why he gets so damn frustrated with some of us (had my own experience with another coworker)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ugh, there was more, but my brain is going into safe mode.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ll just leave one last thought before stopping:&lt;br /&gt;
I would be mortified if he ever found out about the dreams.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lied. Two last thoughts. 2nd is: What&#39;s the line between dating someone to get to know them, and leading them on?&lt;br /&gt;
Because it would convenient if I started feeling more for the guy that obviously likes me.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/4494908375878919503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/when-fuck-did-this-happen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4494908375878919503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4494908375878919503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/when-fuck-did-this-happen.html' title='When the fuck did this happen?'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-1728088178611806522</id><published>2015-10-15T01:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-10-15T01:55:08.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like I&#39;m loosing my best friend. The sad thing is that I saw this coming upon moving in with her. Maybe when I move back out, we&#39;ll be ok again.&lt;br /&gt;
Even if we never stopped being ok, it feels like there&#39;s a distance between us.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/1728088178611806522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/i-feel-like-im-loosing-my-best-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/1728088178611806522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/1728088178611806522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/i-feel-like-im-loosing-my-best-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-3019746035201301164</id><published>2015-10-10T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-10-10T23:40:22.959-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="not again"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="why?"/><title type='text'>fuck</title><content type='html'>Why? Why does this keep happening?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Satan, you know where I lie&lt;br /&gt;
Gently I go into that good night&lt;br /&gt;
All our lives get complicated&lt;br /&gt;
Search for pleasures overrated&lt;br /&gt;
Never armed our souls&lt;br /&gt;
For what the future would hold&lt;br /&gt;
When we were innocent&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;Angels, lend me your might&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;Forfeit all my lives&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;To get just one right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;All those colors long since faded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;All our smiles, confiscated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;Never were we told&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;We&#39;d be bought and sold&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #073763;&quot;&gt;When we were innocent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This prayer is for me tonight&lt;br /&gt;
This far down that line&lt;br /&gt;
Still ain&#39;t got it right&lt;br /&gt;
And while confessions not yet stated&lt;br /&gt;
Our next sin is contemplated&lt;br /&gt;
Never did we know&lt;br /&gt;
What the future would hold&lt;br /&gt;
Or that we&#39;d be bought and sold&lt;br /&gt;
We were innocent</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/3019746035201301164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/fuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3019746035201301164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3019746035201301164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/fuck.html' title='fuck'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-6188740634109053044</id><published>2015-10-09T03:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-10-09T03:24:44.820-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="curse you hindsight!"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="date"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fighting sleep"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="this shit takes effort"/><title type='text'>Typing for procrastination.</title><content type='html'>Still fighting sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Despite the fact that I have gone on a date and am doing it again tomorrow night, it doesn&#39;t feel like a date. Maybe because this is how we&#39;re getting to know each other. Maybe the word &#39;date&#39; would mean something if we already knew each other. I&#39;m not sure I&#39;m into him.&lt;br /&gt;
Don&#39;t get me wrong. He&#39;s nice, and I enjoy talking to him, once we get past the awkward starting point. But I don&#39;t feel anything towards him. At all.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I&#39;m too much of an introvert to form new relationships.&lt;br /&gt;
This shit takes effort.&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t feel like going out tomorrow night. I just want to stay home and do nothing more than shower and fold laundry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it&#39;s supposed to be cold tomorrow night. This thing is outside.&lt;br /&gt;
The warmest thing I have is a light jacket.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I have something in my car? I wasn&#39;t exactly thing this far into the future when it came to packing.&lt;br /&gt;
I also thought I&#39;d have easier access to my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, it&#39;s kinda scattered.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/6188740634109053044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/typing-for-procrastination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6188740634109053044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6188740634109053044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/10/typing-for-procrastination.html' title='Typing for procrastination.'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-5363380433374071054</id><published>2015-08-06T01:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-08-06T01:54:00.089-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="him again"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nicknames"/><title type='text'>I think I&#39;m Paranoid~</title><content type='html'>He still calls me Jamie-o&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had another weird dream with him in it. He was still a bit of a jerk, so at least that was accurate.&lt;br /&gt;
But then there was there was his cheek pressed to mine. Then his lips pressed to my cheek.&lt;br /&gt;
What the fuck?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was fine most of the day. Sometimes I&#39;d remember the dream. Fucking weird. But was distracted by work.&lt;br /&gt;
The last 15 minutes of my shift was... awkward.&lt;br /&gt;
(The word Awkward is awkward.)&lt;br /&gt;
He was walking around the store. Around the same general area of where I was doing re-shops.&lt;br /&gt;
My brain is a masochist.&lt;br /&gt;
(Try not to freak out)&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe he knew... something. I don&#39;t know.&lt;br /&gt;
(The lack of sleep has made me paranoid)&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe he was suspicious.&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
The nickname amuses me. Even if it is stupid.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/5363380433374071054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/i-think-im-paranoid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/5363380433374071054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/5363380433374071054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/i-think-im-paranoid.html' title='I think I&#39;m Paranoid~'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-7269304065426991198</id><published>2015-08-06T01:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-08-06T01:44:16.706-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ADD"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="coffee"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tabs!"/><title type='text'>Wrote this up months ago</title><content type='html'>So I&#39;ve noticed lately that my posts haven&#39;t been as ADD as my mind usually is. The problem is that it&#39;s easier to focus when I can get my thoughts written out. It makes me seem more organized than I really am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
To give an idea of how my afternoon is... Well, I&#39;m just gonna type this up&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First I made the mistake of drinking my coffee with my breakfast instead of after breakfast. Now I&#39;m lacking energy and don&#39;t feel like doing shit.&lt;br /&gt;
See, I&#39;ve figured out that I work better if I eat breakfast, and then wait til I get tired to drink coffee. On some days that even means not getting any coffee. If I drink it when I&#39;m not tired, it makes me sleepy instead of just giving me more energy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But before the coffee started making me tired, I was doing great. Got my jeans in the wash, started looking up recipes for chicken (no ground beef today).&lt;br /&gt;
Then some how I ended up with multiple tabs open.&lt;br /&gt;
Cleared the ones I wasn&#39;t looking at. Confirmed that the use of xanthan gum in gluten free flour was a binding agent.&lt;br /&gt;
Now I have more tabs open. Pretty much decided on a recipe. Have all the stuff for it. Don&#39;t feel like cooking now.&lt;br /&gt;
More tabs!&lt;br /&gt;
Because despite having a recipe I want to use, I&#39;m still looking at more.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve had music playing and have to keep stop typing so that I can sing to it.&lt;br /&gt;
One site has links that look interesting, so Even More Tags!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My brain says coffee. My heart says &quot;what the fuck is going on. Do we need to panic? Cuz we can panic!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
The neurotic little fucker. Ooh, spell check says I guessed out to spell neurotic right!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Days later and I&#39;m looking at this again. Coffee is ok again, as long as I don&#39;t drink it just because. No anxiety from it anymore.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/7269304065426991198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/wrote-this-up-months-ago.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7269304065426991198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7269304065426991198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/wrote-this-up-months-ago.html' title='Wrote this up months ago'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-7241735892682200010</id><published>2015-08-03T01:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2015-08-03T01:43:46.010-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It&#39;s been a while</title><content type='html'>Suddenly started feeling anxious. Rocking back and forth seems to help.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I keep having random thoughts, and then be like &quot;I should blog that&quot; and later on totally forget what it was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You&#39;re a slut&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Only for affection. Never for sex&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not sure where that came from. Imaginary conversation I had in my head a few days ago. Thursday, actually. I was pulling tags.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes it seems like our customers got lobotomies before going shopping.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lobotomies is a weird word.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fuck you Pandora!&lt;br /&gt;
Not the woman, but the music player. It keeps trying to get me to listen to new music that doesn&#39;t even work with the playlist, then is all like &quot;Sorry, no skips left&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
Well I would have skips left if you played the music I&#39;ve already liked motherfucker!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think I&#39;m addicted to dating sims. Despite the fact that most of the free ones suck. And some of them have really bad spelling/grammar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guilty pleasure. I lied to R and told her I only played them because they were ridiculous. I&#39;m not sure she believed me. I&#39;m not even sure she was listening.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m having this issue where I&#39;m fighting sleep. I regret it in the morning when I have to wake up. I was hoping the Wellbutrin would help with this. Then again, I&#39;m only taking 75 mg and haven&#39;t even been taking it for a week. I wish I didn&#39;t need so much sleep. I like being awake in the morning. I just hate waking up.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/7241735892682200010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/its-been-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7241735892682200010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7241735892682200010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/08/its-been-while.html' title='It&#39;s been a while'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-6758706227829365216</id><published>2015-05-13T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-05-13T23:09:01.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fine Again?</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been kicked out of L&#39;s house. I am not upset about it.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m more upset about not having enough time to grab more things. I would have grabbed an extra bra if I had known.&lt;br /&gt;
Crazy bitch.&lt;br /&gt;
Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m at R&#39;s house. I&#39;m ok. I have to be ok.&lt;br /&gt;
The Ghost Hunt fanfic is helping. Not the best written, but it&#39;s creative, I&#39;ll give her that.&lt;br /&gt;
Because really, most fanfic writers are girls. I&#39;m sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have just laughed at a bill collector. I work retail honey, if I could make a down payment of $100, this would have been paid off a year after it happened. Has it been a year?&lt;br /&gt;
Does it matter? Now I have 2 bill collectors! I feel so special.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m collecting collectors!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fuck, I slept on my parents couch last night and my back is killing me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some times I think I have a crush on R&#39;s brother. Or maybe not? I don&#39;t know... It&#39;s like, I want to show affection and give hugs and stuff, but I don&#39;t think I want the actual relationship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This does not feel permanent. Not like home.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe it&#39;s because I&#39;m here almost every week. Maybe it&#39;s because my stuff isn&#39;t here.&lt;br /&gt;
This isn&#39;t the first time this has become a temporary home.&lt;br /&gt;
Not even the second time.&lt;br /&gt;
Probably not the last.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s like I don&#39;t belong.&lt;br /&gt;
Just a problem. Like a foster child to be sent away when they become too troublesome.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/6758706227829365216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/05/fine-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6758706227829365216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/6758706227829365216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/05/fine-again.html' title='Fine Again?'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-7291216234237347465</id><published>2015-04-26T23:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-04-26T23:43:14.580-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I can&#39;t do this"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I don&#39;t care"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whatever"/><title type='text'>I don&#39;t care</title><content type='html'>I can&#39;t do this.&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t just keep fucking doing this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m starting to remember why I used to hide in anime so much.&lt;br /&gt;
I could make them love me or care for me.&lt;br /&gt;
I could change myself to fit into any situation.&lt;br /&gt;
And if something didn&#39;t work out right, I could change it and recreate it.&lt;br /&gt;
As many times as I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;
Until I got it right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why can&#39;t I get this right?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/7291216234237347465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/04/i-dont-care.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7291216234237347465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/7291216234237347465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/04/i-dont-care.html' title='I don&#39;t care'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-131619661283116245</id><published>2015-04-25T16:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-04-25T16:57:18.974-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Unhappy"/><title type='text'>Posted from my phone</title><content type='html'>I am sad.&lt;br /&gt;
Despite only having to pay $20 rent, I want out.&lt;br /&gt;
And I&#39;m just unhappy in general. &lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m at R&#39;s house and I should be happy, but I can&#39;t stop being stressed.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/131619661283116245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/04/posted-from-my-phone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/131619661283116245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/131619661283116245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/04/posted-from-my-phone.html' title='Posted from my phone'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-261985220557300629</id><published>2015-03-28T04:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-28T04:15:15.266-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Criminal Minds"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="haunted"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loosing my mind"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nicknames"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><title type='text'>If I go crazy than will you still call me Superman?~</title><content type='html'>Dude. Spider (because I still haven&#39;t come up with a better name for him)&lt;a href=&quot;https://youtu.be/MlTA_XOMSTA?t=53s&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Is the only person in the whole world who calls me Jamie-o.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Stupid nickname? Yes. But he&#39;s the only one who&#39;s given me a nickname that isn&#39;t James.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s kinda pathetic on my end. Even if I wanted to be interested, I can&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m still getting used to the idea that I can have a guy friend without automatically having a crush on him. It&#39;s weird. I&#39;m weird. I&#39;m having a really weird time trying to explain this, and the more I try, the weirder it gets.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Had a moment at work today. I didn&#39;t loose those keys. I either hook them on my apron or I place them on a counter. I know damn well that I put them on that podium. I know because I remember my thought process. That the girl would need the keys, but she wouldn&#39;t hold on to them. So I put them where she&#39;d placed them before. On the podium.&lt;br /&gt;
So how did they end up under the counter at the front desk?&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, I&#39;d been behind the counter plenty of times, but we have cigarette keys back there, so I didn&#39;t need a set. Even if I&#39;d had them and taken them off my apron, I would have put them &lt;i&gt;on &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;the counter, not &lt;i&gt;under&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;it.&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I&#39;m haunted. Not the first weird thing to happen to me. I could deal with a haunting better than schizophrenia. At least if I was haunted, I&#39;d still have my mind intact.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that weird shit the other post? With the shit running along the walls and ceiling? Hasn&#39;t happened again since. I told L, but I don&#39;t think they did anything about it. I&#39;m sure she would have told me if someone had been down to check for pests. Things would have been moved.&lt;br /&gt;
I haven&#39;t seen Henry around either, for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now where the fuck did I put that car title?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/261985220557300629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/if-i-go-crazy-than-will-you-still-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/261985220557300629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/261985220557300629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/if-i-go-crazy-than-will-you-still-call.html' title='If I go crazy than will you still call me Superman?~'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-5055530392785854545</id><published>2015-03-24T01:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-24T01:27:47.794-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="don&#39;t wanna be here"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fuck"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hearing things"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="panic"/><title type='text'>Fuck fuck fuck fuck</title><content type='html'>Dear fucking God I keep hearing things in the walls or the ceiling or possibly from my fucking closet!&lt;br /&gt;
No, I don&#39;t care that I&#39;ve been reading Stephen King. It&#39;s fucking Dreamcatcher! Scifi, not paranormal.&lt;br /&gt;
Like something moving in there, because now I&#39;m sure it&#39;s coming from the close-&lt;br /&gt;
Fucking making noise I jumped. Please make this stop.&lt;br /&gt;
I think I&#39;m going to die.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/5055530392785854545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/5055530392785854545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/5055530392785854545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.html' title='Fuck fuck fuck fuck'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-2318525070259517663</id><published>2015-03-23T01:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-23T01:31:02.400-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="remember"/><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, for whatever reason, I remember a dream I had so many years ago. Sometime maybe when I was a teenager.&lt;br /&gt;
In the dream, I had a daughter. I&#39;d gone into the bathroom because my nose was starting to bleed and I didn&#39;t want her to see it. I was looking into the mirror, and when I turned towards the door, there was this 5 or 6 year old girl. Her hair was black, her eyes a beautiful shade of blue. She had such a serious look on her face. Her name was Rebecca. Becca.&lt;br /&gt;
My smart, serious daughter.&lt;br /&gt;
And she held out a tissue to me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t know why I still remember that dream. I don&#39;t know why I remembered it tonight.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/2318525070259517663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2318525070259517663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2318525070259517663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-3690584116424342984</id><published>2015-03-17T01:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2015-08-06T01:47:36.040-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="ADD"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adderall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="compulsive biting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="enable"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fanfics"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="fanfiction"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="feeling sick"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ghost Hunt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="good day"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guilt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hallucination"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Henry"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jack"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Money"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="parents"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleep"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stress"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="work"/><title type='text'>Fix me now, I wish you would/Bring me back to life~</title><content type='html'>I am so damn tired. Like, if I changed and curled up in bed, I could pass out pretty soon.&lt;br /&gt;
But I can&#39;t. I&#39;m far too likely to wake up; my body thinking it a nap.&lt;br /&gt;
So I can&#39;t sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The fanfics suck. I know what I want to happen in them. Nobody can write it right. Maybe my expectations are too high. And a lot of the Ghost Hunt fanfics always seem to start out the same way. Mai is late for work. Naru yells at her that she&#39;s late. Tells her to make him tea. Usually she&#39;ll ask Lin if he wants some too. Make tea, wait for Naru to say thank you. Get pissed off because she hasn&#39;t learned by now.&lt;br /&gt;
My god people, pick something different! You aren&#39;t making your fanfic stand out from anybody else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I don&#39;t know if Henry is making all that noise or if he brought friends or what, but it&#39;s freaking me out. Scuttling in the walls. Sometimes it sounds like something in the air vent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel sick. Just a little. Probably just need to get something out of my system. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had a pretty good day today. Only had one person treat me like I was an idiot. If you don&#39;t trust me with your groceries, why come to my line?&lt;br /&gt;
I think Spider has a little bit of the shining.&lt;br /&gt;
I also think I need to change his code name. He&#39;s no longer the spider that you dread because you don&#39;t know where he is.&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I had an early shift.&amp;nbsp;Early for me, I mean.&amp;nbsp;Made a tasty salad at the salad bar for break. I got out on time, got a mocha frappuccino (been so long since I got a frap). Picked up some more soy milk and some chocolate yogurt. I was pretty damn happy. It was just warm enough to sit outside and read my book (Bag of Bones by Stephen King) while listening to my upbeat Pandora station.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I got to chat with L today. She understands that I have to reprogram 27 years of my brain. Told me that I shouldn&#39;t feel guilty about keeping money away from my parents. That I can&#39;t move on with my life if I keep enabling theirs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dad sent me a picture of Jack today. My kitten is 2 years old. He&#39;s gotten so big. I miss him. Jack has been snuggling with dad since I moved out in November.&lt;br /&gt;
That picture also means that Dad isn&#39;t mad at me for leaving them financially alone.&lt;br /&gt;
So why do I feel they should be mad at me? That I should avoid asking them for help?&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s the wiring in my brain, right? Why can&#39;t I just undo it like a twist tie? Just turn it in the other direction?&lt;br /&gt;
Instead it feels like cutting wires to a bomb. Sure, the manual tells you what order to cut the wires in, but it turns out you&#39;re color-blind and the red and green look like the same damn color.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dammit, I keep seeing things move from the corner of my eye. Sometimes it&#39;s my hair, or a shadow, or even just the way my eye shifts I don&#39;t fucking know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve bitten the fuck out of my nails. I had a good day but I&#39;m doing the stress thing. The eating, the biting, that thing that I do where I run my hand through my hair, even though I know it will make it more of a mess.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the ADD has been so much worse. I&#39;ll be scanning an order and get distracted by something at self-scan, or a child in the line in front of me, or two managers talking over to the side. Maybe someone making an announcement on the PA system.&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m considering getting back on the Adderall. The appointment alone costs about $80, and I don&#39;t remember how much the meds cost. I just don&#39;t like how they make me angry if I take them for too long. My temper is short enough at work without medicational side effects.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/3690584116424342984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/fix-me-now-i-wish-you-wouldbring-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3690584116424342984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3690584116424342984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/fix-me-now-i-wish-you-wouldbring-me.html' title='Fix me now, I wish you would/Bring me back to life~'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-3375462460624834376</id><published>2015-03-13T03:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-13T03:00:54.808-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babble"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Henry"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lyrics"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mouse"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sleep"/><title type='text'>I&#39;ve got my feet on the ground and I don&#39;t go to sleep to dream~</title><content type='html'>Henry lives!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Henry is running amok in the basement. I really wish he&#39;d calm down. Kinda freaking me out. I guess he&#39;s not used to the change either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I need to wake up by 11. That will give me 45 mins to get ready... I also need to wash my hair in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I told R that I was getting off work at 5:30. That will give me an extra half our to get ready.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m tired enough to sleep, but I&#39;m hungry. I also know eating will probably wake me up. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even waking up at 11, I&#39;ll be getting less than 8 hours of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Damn it&#39;s cold down here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The title is a lie.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/3375462460624834376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/ive-got-my-feet-on-ground-and-i-dont-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3375462460624834376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/3375462460624834376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/ive-got-my-feet-on-ground-and-i-dont-go.html' title='I&#39;ve got my feet on the ground and I don&#39;t go to sleep to dream~'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-4517304379539443992</id><published>2015-03-12T03:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-12T03:23:52.831-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="alone"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babble"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cansado means tired"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hallucinate"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="help"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hurt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lonely"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mouse"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="moving"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pain"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tired"/><title type='text'>Muy cansado</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I&#39;ve decided to name the mouse Henry. I don&#39;t know why.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I hallucinated again. I thought I saw a person across the street. But then there wasn&#39;t one.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;My back is hurting like a motherfucker. That doesn&#39;t make sense. I don&#39;t care. Fucking pain, dude.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;I haven&#39;t seen Henry yet tonight.&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;ul&gt;
&lt;li&gt;This post is being written over the course of more than an hour. Perspective. You are reading this as happening all at once.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(This actually &lt;i&gt;is &lt;/i&gt;happening all at once)&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like I have no one to talk to. R isn&#39;t good with these things. She doesn&#39;t know what to say or do. She has no advice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t talk to my parents. My last... meeting with them, didn&#39;t go well. I left on bad terms. I can&#39;t let them borrow money from me anymore because they can&#39;t pay me back. If they become homeless, it would be my fault. How could I ask for their help when I can&#39;t help them?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can&#39;t talk to my house mate because I barely see her. L is one of the reasons I need someone to talk to in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things are happening and I feel stuck. L is talking about moving. She&#39;s getting the house fixed up. I was starting to get comfortable. I&#39;m so damn sick of moving. I got woken up because of the contractor working on the house.&lt;br /&gt;
I feel like people see me as lazy and not working, because I can&#39;t get to bed before 5AM and I sleep until 1. They see me as being more lazy than someone who works as many hours as me, but during the day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know L tells me that if we move (by the end of summer, if she has it her way), I&#39;d be welcome to come with them. Things wouldn&#39;t change just because of the move.&lt;br /&gt;
No, I don&#39;t want to move again, but it&#39;s not even about that.&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s the idea of a viewing. Of having to make it look like we don&#39;t live here when we do. And when would these people be coming by to look at the house? In the evening, when the family is home? No, I think not.&lt;br /&gt;
No, it will most likely be while I&#39;m sleeping. Would I have to be awake and out of the house while this is happening? Would they have to avoid my room? Because I can&#39;t imaging some walking people through the basement and through my room and pointing out &quot;Now this isn&#39;t an addition to the house, don&#39;t worry. The family will be taking her with them.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no one I can talk to about any of this. I don&#39;t want to form a relationship with someone just so I can abuse them with my complaints and ramblings. Nobody wants that. And I can&#39;t afford therapy. Besides, I&#39;m gonna snap if someone else tells me I have to be rational about this.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/4517304379539443992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/muy-cansado.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4517304379539443992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/4517304379539443992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/muy-cansado.html' title='Muy cansado'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4918086636246551679.post-2848676753909453177</id><published>2015-03-11T05:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2015-03-11T05:01:24.733-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babble"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="boring"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Scattered Motivation"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whatever"/><title type='text'>Whatever</title><content type='html'>There is a mouse in the basement. It looked brown the first few times I saw it, but last time it was grey. Hmm, maybe there&#39;s more than one. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never realized I had a fear of ladybugs until I moved into this house. We have a strange amount of them here. Maybe it&#39;s just flying bugs/insects I can stand. I don&#39;t like birds either, but they don&#39;t freak me out, nor do I have a fear of flying. And I love bats, so it&#39;s not the flying part.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m just typing out random things now, like that I&#39;m closing my right eye to type this.&lt;br /&gt;
I also enjoy watching other people play video games. Mostly for the story line.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve been avoiding telling my house mates that I think we lost power to a few outlets. Mostly because the outlets are in the basement and I&#39;m the only one who uses them. Not a big deal, but I don&#39;t want them to think I did it. I only had two things plugged in anyway, and I&#39;d been doing it for a few months before this happened.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also don&#39;t want to tell them about the mouse. Cuz that shit is totally my fault, considering that I&#39;m a lazy slob who doesn&#39;t sweep or vacuum, and tends to brush food onto the floor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why don&#39;t I want to sleep? I had an eight out shift and it&#39;s 3:36 AM. I could probably sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How the fuck do I turn off my brain?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So. Many. Typos. You just can&#39;t see them because I&#39;m correcting them as I go along.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I need to repaint my nails. And stop biting them&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now it&#39;s 5AM. I need to sleep.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/feeds/2848676753909453177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/whatever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2848676753909453177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4918086636246551679/posts/default/2848676753909453177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scatteredmotivation.blogspot.com/2015/03/whatever.html' title='Whatever'/><author><name>SomethingCliche</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07182062307586054645</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz_vxlpliNHdU85iF0dhBNnZuxb8keJjUPVHYqS9jYH6Cq7LFGhPdqllXJdML-mS09-jZLi8VGTTcZqWnglnbdAfnxD--_E9LDQ41ZA-VH6KzHmS8cuuVI8bSQQWJ4w/s150/*'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>