If all goes well I will wake up according to schedule in 3 hours. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Cause I really want to have the will power to do this. It will mean amazing things and lots of time to do it in. If I manage to get up, I’ll go for a run and have a nice showet, hours before the rest of the world. This thrills me. For now, time for sleeping.

Goodnight.

Though after getting home from the boyfriend’s house, I discovered the cat decided that the entire apartment was now her new litter box (joy), that my computer’s fan sounded like a high-pitched lawnmower (uh, annoying), and my apartment smelled funny. I guess this means it’s time to take out the trash or something.

So lately I’ve been playing far too much World of Warcraft. I mean, a whole helluva lot of WoW (the acronym for World of Warcraft just in case someone who’s been living under a rock for the last 5 years stumbles across this and is curious why the hell anyone would name a video game wow). This slight obsession with playing WoW so much stems from a couple of things. It’s something I can do with out having to spend a ton of money. Considering I’ve cut back on as much as I possibly can with regard to expenses, the only “luxuries” I have are internet (which was actually a requirement for school since I had a whole lot of quizzes and tests online, as well as papers to turn in), Netflix (the cheapest possible plan I could have that included streaming movies), and WoW.

There are always other options for entertainment, sure. I could read, or knit, or crochet (and thus finish projects I’ve been thinking about, working on and have started but not finished). And man are there a number of books that I definitely want to read before I die.

But when push comes to shove, it’s WoW that seems to get the majority of my attention. That is, until, about 7-ish tonight.

I decided to clean up my room some. Put away all the clean clothes. Patch the crotchial area of my jeans and see if I can’t get at least a month and a half out of them before having to drop mad cashola for replacement jeans. Pack up all of the clothes I decided on donating… oh… months and months ago… only to end up with a giant pile of clothes sitting in the corner. I may (or may not) load up the car prior to going to work and drop it all off at Good Will tomorrow when I get home. I put the dirty laundry in the laundry basket where it belongs. I brushed the hell outta the cat (even though I was pretty upset at her for the litter situation earlier) which she love love loves! She actually sits there and delegates what area of her body to brush and de-fur. It’s very cute.

I started to clean a tiny bit of the kitchen, but that’ll have to wait for another day.

And I dyed some more yarn. This turned out “happier” than I expected with really bright colors. I was thinking something totally different than what I got. *shrug* it’s not bad, but the purple will need to be redyed to try to sort out weird dye separation color stuff. Oh well.

Oh yeah, I also turned on the gas heater, lit the pilot and got that all fired up (pun intended). The crazy thing about my wonderful wall-unit heater is that there’s some sort of gas leak that the landlord* refuses to acknowledge exists. Thankfully there’s a gas shut-off valve inside of the unit and once it hits the point where I’m no longer using it, the gas gets turned off. This saves me about $10/mo on my PG&E bill (because the pilot still burns gas!!) and keeps my apartment from smelling nasty and gross.

Well, it felt far too cold inside my apartment (with all of the windows clothes) so I checked the weather. At the time (this was about, oh 8-ish) it was 60 degrees. Which is actually really nice and pleasant. It was the low of 44 that scared me. Because a week ago we had 100 degree days and 80 degree nights. This severe shift in temperature is likely to mean that someone in this home may get sick… but not if I can help it.

So on goes the heater.

And now I’m wrapping up the night feeling slightly accomplished. I’d like one more day of weekend but I know that’s not likely. Maybe I’ll see if I can have a 3 day weekend next week (for Columbus day, which the rest of the world gets as a paid holiday, but I don’t get it as a holiday at all).

*Note: He’s not really the landlord, he’s the owner of the apartment complex (or as I like to call him, the Slumlord… which he is).

Do you remember those days? Back when we would talk about the mundane bits we did in our lives and each day we’d spend hours upon hours reading up on each other. I’ve met my Canadian twin Joanne because when I google’d or yahoo’d “vox machina” she showed up, though really I was looking for Zannah. I started reading and BOOM that was the end of that, and her interesting life became my online obsession.

There was a shift, though, in the internet. Right at the height of the Dotcom boom something changed in the way people were blogging. It became more about sharing strange and weird things found online than it was about sharing your own life. People let their personal blogs disappear and eventually fade away into non-existence because real life came along and punched them in the face. It was the same for me too. I fell victim to the same thing.

Then everyone found their niche blogs. The one thing that they blogged about all the time, every entry. And while it’s interesting and even kind of awesome to get so much information about one (or two) subjects, it became like beating a dead horse (until dead again).

And then the death of the internet came. Okay, not really, but it seemed that way to me. Mostly because before the term “dooced” (my firing happened in January 2001) became part of the blogging world, I was fired from a job because of the things I wrote about on my blog. I didn’t mention who I worked for, or co-workers names, but I was fired for the contents of my Opendiary blog anyway. But I kept blogging like a good little would-be writer does. That is, until people in your real life, start misunderstanding bits of your online writing life. I can’t possibly be the first person to slightly (or not-so-slightly) exaggerate a story or two. And I can’t possibly be the first person to maybe just a teeny bit elaborate on the personal opinions on the decisions of other’s lives. This became the focal point of real-life friends and the online disappearance came shortly after.

Fast forward quite a few years and you find yourself in the Twitter, Plurk, Facebook status, Myspace update world of online micro-blogging. In 140 characters tell me what you’re doing because most people have gotten to the point where that’s about all they can manage to read about any given person. It doesn’t actually matter that in 140 characters you can’t ever get to the meat of something. It can’t tell the whole story. It’s like one-sided chatting with the occasional response. It’s great, for the most part, and I partake in many of the micro-blogging sites (with great fervor I might add).

Where am I going with this? Okay, so on Monday (the day that made me cry on the phone with the boyfriend like someone punched my cat in the face with the big choking sobs and body shakes and inevitable exhaustion) WendyKnits, posted a link on Plurk that led me to CrazyAuntPurl (aka Laurie). In the last 3.5 days I have read nearly everything from January 2005 until April something 2006. I still have a few more years of catch up reading to do, but holy crap! This woman not only can write, but she talks about all sorts of things going on in her life.

It’s not to trivialize anyone’s life, but it’s funny to find myself wrapped up so completely in someone else’s personal online blogging life that I’m basically like a crack addict in need of a fix. Or someone who’s had a really shitty week and needed a really good distraction. Either way, it worked.

Zannah and her sister Narilka have mentioned blogging again. I’ve logged into my admin page, clicked the “new entry” link and stared at the blank page every day for the last 3 days. I’ve talked in the past about wanting to write again. Getting back to writing some more, on either domain.

But finding Laurie and reading about her life reminded me of why I enjoyed reading people’s blogs in the first place. A glimpse into another’s life through their story telling. It doesn’t matter if it’s slightly distorted, horrifically exaggerated, or completely fabricated. It was interesting. And I loved it.

So who’s with me? No more TL;DR!

And every day I am thoroughly disappointed with my day.

I think I need a new job. Somewhere else to work, cause I’ve really truly had it with this place… and most of the people.