well I can already tell this is gonna be a bad night
today has just been fucking weird and hard. I'm in a bad mood. everything feels bad. (probably not helped by me not taking the new antidepressant last night so I wouldn't sleep all day)
the plan was for my friend to come over this weekend to help me pack. she did that last time and it helped a lot. (my husband could help, obviously, but he's in charge of other things that also need to get done. plus he's very bad at putting things into boxes.)
but the rail strike is still going on so it's likely that she won't be able to get here (or get back in time). so now that's suddenly a lot more stressful and the one thing that I thought would make it go okay is gone.
and I also have to like. at least reread my thesis a few times or whatever to study for the oral exam on Friday. which will make me want to die. because it is bad. so. that will be bad. and the thought of being asked questions about that piece of garbage for 30 fucking minutes is so horrifying that I genuinely do not know if I will be able to get through it without taking my Lorazepam beforehand (which I know is a horrible idea, and my psychiatrist told me twice that it's a bad idea, and I know it would just make me unbelievably stupid. but holy shit that is the scariest thing I can imagine.)
and of course instead of doing anything useful I'm now just sitting here feeling like shit (like last night, only worse)
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stuck between "psychological horror statement" and "objectively the funniest thing you could say to your real flesh and blood dad" in the father's day card aisle
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baby animals move like theyre playing a new video game & havent figured out the controls yet
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i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.
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"when i was your age, i was working three jobs to help support my family" and "when i was in college i was sleeping on a mattress on the floor and living off of soup"
YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO DO THAT. NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO DO THAT. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN TO YOU THAT THIS ISN'T A CHARACTER-BUILDING LESSON, IT'S JUST BAD
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Louis: so i got into the confessional booth and i said to the priest I LAID DOWN WITH A MAN!! I LAID DOWN WITH THE DEVIL!! AND HE HAS ROOTS IN ME, ALL HIS SPINDLY ROOTS IN ME! AND I CANT THINK NOTHING ANYMORE BUT HIS VOICE AND HIS WORDS! PLEASE! HELP ME! I AM WEAK! I WANNA DIE! but Lestat, he knew where I was and he found me, Mr. Molloy. He found me and punched clean through that priest’s-
Armand on that damn ipad:
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✦ Sheepstrength ✦
(An Art Fight revenge on Cerebrum_Cupcakes (from last year), featuring their warrior cats character).
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Bruce: *waking up in a hospital that he drove himself to after having a heart attack and telling absolutely nobody* hey…
The entirety of the batclan looking over him with Dick in the centre, an absolute terrifying grin on his face:
Dick: hello Bruce, nice evening isn’t it? Got something to share with us?
Edit: the fic is now out on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/57780508
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