Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

work

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So, i’m all hooked up on my PC away from home here at work … my email is even routed through the dreaded Outlook. Yuck. But, anyway, my job here in Admissions rocks; there’s plenty to do, but there’s always a chance to sit down and check your email as you shuttle between one task and another. Having only ever really worked at the coffee shop, and also for Orientation, i’ve never really been aquainted with the concept of a job where there’s a bit of downtime here and there. It’s cool. Catch ya later.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2942424/

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I’ve been sleeping horribly lately … i’m always in bed by 1:30 at the latest, but i just can’t get good sleep past eight or nine in the morning. This won’t continue to be a problem, since i’ve got to be at work at 8:45 on Monday, but it’s bothering me anyway. Is it just that i’ve become so regular in my sleep cycle that i only really need seven or eight solid hours a night, and anything beyond that is extraneous, even if i’m convince i’d like to have it? I dunno… i’m just so used to using up every spare sliver of sleeping time i can lay my hands (and the rest of me) on that i’m fascinated by not needing it. Maybe this means we’ll be seeing some more morning blogs from me as my job in the Admissions Office progresses…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2916533/

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Oh, yeah, and i start my co-op job tomorrow morning. I’ve picked out my outfit for the day, but otherwise i’m utterly in the dark about what my day will be like, and i’m sure i’ll have lots of interesting things to say about it after i get back from the Studio. I think it’s sleepy-time…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2868263/

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Word from Selina: no link to her diary. It’s a fair enough decision, since it’s a diary and not a journal or log, but i just don’t really understand putting something online if you don’t want people to read it. Well… i do get it: she doesn’t mind random people reading it, but because a lot of our friends read this page and she doesn’t want them snooping around her diary. So, though i might not really understand it, her page is more personal than this one has ever been, so it’s her call. So, yeah.

I almost have trouble wrapping my mind around how some loggers run afoul of real life friends with their logs. I mean, it’s quite obvious how people you never intended to find your site can find it, so you can never really be truly tell-all and brutal. But, at the same time, do you want to be that mean about someone behind their back on the internet? It feels rather petty to me. I think anyone i know could probably read my page other than family, and i’d back up my opinions to any of them. Where this all gets a little complicated is in the workplace; in a week i’ll be working for the admissions office, so i can’t really have them visit because they might catch some snippet of behaviour that’s obviously contrary to university policy. So, … there are limits, it’s true. However, i still don’t understand why some loggers are so intent on staying anonymous or hiding their sites; a few of them like Brant have a vested interest in not having family or friends ever finding them, but … well … i don’t know. I guess i just don’t feel like a real passive aggressive if there isn’t a slight chance for the people i’m talking about to read my log, however small it might be.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2806525/

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I walked the distance from my apartment to my house today without ever actually getting to my house. This is not a short walk: it basically spans the entire width of Center City and cuts north and south into more residential neighborhoods. It was sunny when i finally made it out of Drexel’s campus after multiple interruptions. Two blocks from picking up my last paycheck from the coffee shop i thought i saw a spot of rain on the pavement. When i left the shop it was drizzling. When i left the first music store i had on my itinerary it was drizzling, and by the time i crossed over Market street it was pouring. The whole time i shopped on South Street it was miserable and i was damp. I regretted that i had decided to walk all the way there and prepared to catch the subway back to Drexel.

As i left the last store on my shopping excursion, the rain halted as if someone hit an off-switch. For the entirety of my walk to Market street to catch the El i felt as though the sun was a follow-spotlight that was tracking me from block to block; everything around me was lit up brighter than it was across the street or further down the block, and my shadow was thrown huge against the sidewalk. The sun actually seemed to be pointing itself right at me. I was glowing.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2768572/