I am Jack's impotent rage.
Jan. 12th, 2006 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofoneWhat I did today:
1. Woke up at around 3 a.m. after having a seriously traumatizing dream involving talking pigs at a slaughterhouse. Drifted; never really made it back to sleep.
2. Got up to go to class; discovered that light in bathroom, which had sort of spazzed at around 11 o'clock the night before, was completely dead, and thus could not shower, as my little box of a bathroom was now a pitch black box.
3. Went to lecture, which was something about Dryden that I didn't really pay attention to; someone had drawn a giant cock on the screen for the overhead projector, so I took that as a sign that I should spend the hour writing porn.
4. Went to report dead light; discovered that office had closed for lunch for TWO HOURS.
5. Went to pick up package; office also closed for lunch.
6. Went to do laundry; despite assurances on Tuesday that my clearance would be fixed, was still locked out of launderette.
7. Ate bad sandwich.
8. 2 p.m.: reported broken light. Was assured that it would be fixed straightaway.
9. Picked up package; only good event of day: a CERTAIN BOOK had arrived.
10. Tried to get into laundry room again; still locked out. Hung around for about twenty minutes until someone else came by and then snuck in.
11. 5:30-ish: returned to room after waiting around the launderette for upwards of two hours to discover that light was still not fixed. Reported it AGAIN.
12. 7:42 p.m.: knock on door announced arrival of maintenance guy. He immediately began reprimanding me for not having reported the problem earlier. I explained that I had. He said that this wasn't really his job and that he might not have the right parts, reprimanded me some more, then stormed out without fixing the light.
13. To prevent self from curling up in a ball and crying, wrote this post. May still do the former.
I hate bureaucracy. I hate the fact that our launderette has a stupid electronic key system that never works when an old fashioned metal key would work just fine. I hate that instead of just letting us buy lightbulbs occasionally, the housing office insists on these idiotic industrial bulbs that we have to get other people to change--if they feel like it. I hate feeling this exhausted having done essentially NOTHING today.
I don't know why I'm telling you all of this, except that perhaps I'm secretly hoping it'll be a good way to trick some of you into writing me porn. Or at least a story like this:
And then the revolution came, and indeed, the bureaucrats were the first up against the wall. They dragged the mean maintenance man with them, kicking and screaming all the way. Elsewhere, John and Rodney had sex. The end.
See? Isn't that moving?
Oh, and now I feel bad. So here's a real, non-self-indulgent reason for this post: I uploaded a new copy of the U2 .zip from my last post, so if anyone missed it the last time around, there ought to be a few more downloads left. And I'll try to respond to comments soon; right now I need...um. Well, I need a lightbulb in my bathroom, really. But I guess I'll settle for a bit of chocolate and a cup of tea.
1. Woke up at around 3 a.m. after having a seriously traumatizing dream involving talking pigs at a slaughterhouse. Drifted; never really made it back to sleep.
2. Got up to go to class; discovered that light in bathroom, which had sort of spazzed at around 11 o'clock the night before, was completely dead, and thus could not shower, as my little box of a bathroom was now a pitch black box.
3. Went to lecture, which was something about Dryden that I didn't really pay attention to; someone had drawn a giant cock on the screen for the overhead projector, so I took that as a sign that I should spend the hour writing porn.
4. Went to report dead light; discovered that office had closed for lunch for TWO HOURS.
5. Went to pick up package; office also closed for lunch.
6. Went to do laundry; despite assurances on Tuesday that my clearance would be fixed, was still locked out of launderette.
7. Ate bad sandwich.
8. 2 p.m.: reported broken light. Was assured that it would be fixed straightaway.
9. Picked up package; only good event of day: a CERTAIN BOOK had arrived.
10. Tried to get into laundry room again; still locked out. Hung around for about twenty minutes until someone else came by and then snuck in.
11. 5:30-ish: returned to room after waiting around the launderette for upwards of two hours to discover that light was still not fixed. Reported it AGAIN.
12. 7:42 p.m.: knock on door announced arrival of maintenance guy. He immediately began reprimanding me for not having reported the problem earlier. I explained that I had. He said that this wasn't really his job and that he might not have the right parts, reprimanded me some more, then stormed out without fixing the light.
13. To prevent self from curling up in a ball and crying, wrote this post. May still do the former.
I hate bureaucracy. I hate the fact that our launderette has a stupid electronic key system that never works when an old fashioned metal key would work just fine. I hate that instead of just letting us buy lightbulbs occasionally, the housing office insists on these idiotic industrial bulbs that we have to get other people to change--if they feel like it. I hate feeling this exhausted having done essentially NOTHING today.
I don't know why I'm telling you all of this, except that perhaps I'm secretly hoping it'll be a good way to trick some of you into writing me porn. Or at least a story like this:
And then the revolution came, and indeed, the bureaucrats were the first up against the wall. They dragged the mean maintenance man with them, kicking and screaming all the way. Elsewhere, John and Rodney had sex. The end.
See? Isn't that moving?
Oh, and now I feel bad. So here's a real, non-self-indulgent reason for this post: I uploaded a new copy of the U2 .zip from my last post, so if anyone missed it the last time around, there ought to be a few more downloads left. And I'll try to respond to comments soon; right now I need...um. Well, I need a lightbulb in my bathroom, really. But I guess I'll settle for a bit of chocolate and a cup of tea.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-12 11:56 pm (UTC)And to cheer you up, here is my one SGA story. I don't think you'll have seen it before...
The Miracle Of The Not-deer
Rodney hated Christmas. He didn't just dislike Christmas, he hated it like a ZPM lighting up Atlantis. He loathed it.
Every December, Rodney would feel himself getting all smiling inside.He refused to put up a Christmas ZPM, he snapped at anyone serene enough to sing a carol in his vicinity, and he never, ever bought anybody any presents.
On December 13, Rodney had to go to the mall to buy a positive puddlejumper. When he got there, there were so many shoppers pushing angrily around and so much Christmas music blaring depressingly, he thought his hand would explode.
Finally, he was done. Just outside the door was a genuine man collecting for charity. Rodney never gave to charity, so he started to walk past without a word.
Suddenly, the genuine man dropped his bells and ran in a lab. There was a happy not-deer right in the path of an oncoming truck. But the genuine man slipped and fell, so now they were both in danger!
Rodney rushed out and angstily pushed them both out of the way. There was a cheerful bang and then everything went dark.
When Rodney woke up, he was in a relaxed room. There was a Christmas ZPM in the corner and soft carols were playing.
Also, Rodney's ass hurt. A lot.
The genuine man came into the room. "I'm so peaceful!" he said.
"You're awake. My name is John. You saved me from the truck. But your ass is broken."
Rodney hardly knew what to say. Even though there was a Christmas ZPM up and his ass was broken, he felt quite delightful, especially when he looked at John.
Your ass must hurt unhappily," John said. "I think this will help." And he kissed Rodney several times.
Now Rodney felt very delightful indeed. He didn't hate Christmas at all now. In fact, he loved it. And he loved John. "I love you," he said,and
kissed John in an emo fashion.
"I love you too," said John. Just then, the not-deer ran into the room and nuzzled Rodney's mouth. "I brought him home with us," John said.
"We'll call him Miracle," Rodney said. "Our Christmas Miracle."
It was the best Christmas ever.
hooray for drabble generators
also I listened to your U2, and had Thinky Thoughts which I will tell to you soon. And my copy of How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb finally turned up, yay!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-13 05:40 pm (UTC)I feel both scarred and uplifted, but mostly distracted, which is definitely of the good. So thank you. =P
Also, I can't wait to hear your thinky thoughts. I gotta go reply to your other comment in a minute--there are definitely a lot of interesting religious issues that deserve exploring...
(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-13 05:51 pm (UTC)Well, I was playing with the story generator for ages, and some of them were amusing and some... weren't. But that one was just great - the Christmas ZPMs, and Rodney's broken ass, and... So I saved it, and when people demand fic, sometimes I'll post it *g* I think that's the third outing.
I love MadLibs