19th Jan

 I thought I was winning the sleep schedule battle.

No.

After getting close it rubber banded back hardcore today. Didn't properly get up until 7pm. Yikes.

Arse was a gloopy mess. In the scale of things it could be worse. Its just a continual damp liquidy ass. Must. Contact. Alleged. Health. Service.

Sigh.

Today I have cleared a bunch more work. A bunch more came in. Never ending. Andy does the whole usual fucked up expectation thing. Here's a scheduled thing. Start today yeah ? Oh, here's three other things as well.

So. You started the schedule today yeah ?

Sure. I gave the other three things to the IT elves to do leaving me free.

The dude has almost zero concept of time or scheduling. It's remarkable. Again, I think he just acts on anxiety / instinct. Whatever is a worry, he needs. Schedules and the like don't even come into it.

I think that's probably the secret to be honest. Most of it comes from an anxiety root. The panicked need for something 5 minutes after talking to someone. The constant priority switching depending on who he last talked to. The ignoring of any kind of schedule. The inability to say no. The inability to enforce a boundary. Or discipline someone who needs it. The inability in fact to make anyone unhappy with him. And running away - literally - from financial issues.

It's anxiety. Fear.

I have very very briefly touched around his upbringing and childhood in the past to see if I can find a founding cause. But on cursory examination, I can't find one. Not that I dug very much. I have a small nagging suspicion it's his mom. Authoritarian. Disciplinarian. But I don't know. I could be very much poking around the wrong tree.

I am not much bothered anyway. He is, what he is. Finding the backstory would just be a point of interest.

I think his anxiety is also contagious. And behind the stress he can unload on devs. He does a lot better with dealing with it nowadays without transmission. But. It's still very much a thing.

Noodled with a bit of art, just for fun. I noted that one of the board game nights fell on Valentines Day this year. If I were still organising the show, I think I would probably arrange some special night dealio. But I'm not. So I'm not. And wouldn't have the energy anyway. But. A bit of idle noodling with art... 

 I enjoyed drawing all the hearts. Easy stuff. There is an easy satisfaction about doing simple things well in Photoshop. Very powerful, if you know which obscure buttons and knobs to tweak. I honestly think at least 50% of graphic design is just Photoshop doing it for you. Controversial.

Eh meh. Roll on tomorrow. Last work day for the week. Then I can slump and hibernate for 96 hours. I will try and be a little proactive this weekend.

Some random internet stranger started a mental health diary. It was suggested by their shrink. A public diary. For everyone to read. A 30 something doctor. Struggling hardcore with depression and insomnia and bouts of mania and yada blah. Her noodlings sounded all too familiar. The days where you waste away. Miserable. The small wins. I reached out to her, just to say hi, liked reading her journal, I was in a similar place, writing shit down helped me, hoped it would help her too. If she ever needed to scream at someone, drop me a line, otherwise. I would read her journal. She liked the term "climbing the walls". I guess as an American she had never heard of it. She said it was almost a perfect description of where she was right now. She was very glad I had reached out. It meant a lot to her. Uh huh. That's ok fellow sufferer. You're not alone. Have a nod.

At the very very least. I think a brief acknowledgement. A brief connection. Can make a tiny little bit of a difference. The knowing nod of a person In The Club. I see you. You got this. You are not alone.

That's it.