(no subject)

It is incredibly disconcerting when a conditioner you’ve been using for years suddenly smells like strawberry bubblegum.  And just… why.  Why would you do that.  The cloying scent of artificial strawberry should be an optional thing.  …I’m voicing my complaints okay.

Ah yes.  Nothing like forced days off due to a “hyper-aware of pain day”.  Good times, kids. *old man cough*

It’s really just obnoxious, but seeing as how I can’t tell if I fucked my back up or it’s just a twinge that’s being unfairly multiplied by nerve nonsense, along with both arms being sore, I’m guessing it’s just body-brain stupid.  Unfortunately I do know that I pulled… something in my chest.  And if you have ever pulled something in your chest, then you understand that it’s hard to localize because that little bastard is felt everywhere.  Not bad, just.  Oh hello every time I reach up for anything, nice of you to remind me I have muscles there, now fuck off.

I mean, I’ll probably give up and play video games at some point, but.  For now I protest by doing very small bits of work.  Ha, take that.  Whatever.  Universe.

So, amusing myself with a couple of extremely boring pictures of things.

For a laugh I took a picture of my “desk aesthetic”:

(Seriously, if anyone wants to pay me to finish the Prompto thing, let me know.  Otherwise I will keep it until the PAK shows up, take a picture, finish it how I’d like and throw it up for sale.)

It’s clean sometimes, honest.  And then I start working again.  Sure as hell not taking a picture of the “actual work desk”.  No one needs to know what that looks like right now.  We’re headed toward Desert Bus crunch time, that’s all anyone needs to understand.

Also been picking a little at my “other little red Corvette” lately:

Mine.  My sweet little 8 track digital recorder.  Positively ancient now, but still works beautifully.  …Don’t have the heart to listen to whatever unmixed thing is taking up half the memory card quite yet, but I’ll get there.  It’s probably crap or I accidentally recorded over the guitar or something, but.

Little steps, man.