Streeeeeeeeeeess!

Argh. Fuck EA Games up the arse with a cactus. Sideways.

You have no idea how many reinstalls I had to do to figure out that a lot of my downloads just. Don't. Work with Sims 2 Uni!

It's frustrating as all hell because now not only do I have to salvage the ones that are EP compatible, but I've had to ditch every single custom neighbourhood I created. I liked my Llandeilo, but now it has to be ditched until such time as I can get the downloads I need to make it properly. I've finally at least been able to play, but it's not as much fun without all the funky stuff I downloaded the last time. Plus I haven't even been able to make a start on rebuilding my Downloads folder until now because the router was having a hissy fit.

Watch the same thing happen when Sims 2 Nightlife comes out in the autumn. Bollocks.

If only my current woes were all just computer-related. I mean, shit, I can handle the newly rebuilt and finally functional Frankenbox being a bit of a pain in the arse. But there's the other stuff. Having to give Yuki up when I move. The prospect of cleaning up this shithole I call my room and moving the contents to Finchley. The knowledge that it's still ten days before I can actually move in and those ten days aren't going to be easy on anyone concerned. The fact that none of this seems to be getting easier from an external point of view. All told, it's stress on wheels and I just want to hide under the duvet and hold a "DO NOT FEED THE HEDGEHOG" sign up to anyone who dares try to pull me out of my newfound cave.

And then there's jobs or lack thereof. I really should have just sucked it up and taken the stupid NHS job. It was only three months, after all. Now I have to sit around and wait for them to get their thumbs out of their arses and find me something that please God isn't NHS medical. It's absolutely insane -- I suppose this isn't quite the time of year where tempwork is much necessary, and it does tend to take some time to get started in this kind of thing, but a month?!? Jeez. Well, one bunch calls me tomorrow and I ring the other bunch tomorrow and tell them that I would really like a job now, please. Hell, they should really want to find me something, given my experience. Eesh.

I suppose the saving grace is that the migraine is better and the router's stopped being an almighty pain in the arse. Cold comfort, really. Or maybe the cold is the fact that I've left the window open and it's come over all blustery.

*yawn*

5:15 a.m. -- crawled into bed.

5:45 a.m. -- last recorded glance at the clock before finally getting to sleep.

10:00 a.m. -- cat starts yowling for food/attention.

10:30 a.m. -- alarm goes off.

Now I'm trying to get ready to head into London proper to meet up with gf2e and dodgyhoodoo for lunch. And oh boy am I tired.

Insomnia blows.

Utter and complete spaz

It occurs to me that, with the insomnia I've been having for the last few days, eating over half a bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans and washing them down with cola is on a par with attempting to douse a fire with kerosene.

Well, I was hungry! And they're moreish. And now I'm into the "tired but wired" phase of insomnia.

Aw, crap. I am such a spaz.

So later tonight, after I've eaten a sensible meal (read: one that does not consist almost exclusively of sugar and caffeine) and made some further headway into recreating my once massive Sims 2 downloads folder, I will be putting the marjoram oil that dodgyhoodoo got me to good use. That, valerian, lavender and jasmine in large quantity to drown out the cat-piss smell of the bloody valerian and a little bit of eucalyptus for the sinuses will go into a nice hot bath, in which I will then soak.

You'd think that if I was going to be unable to sleep, I would at least be able to get my muse to do something writerly. But no, she's somewhere in the back of my head contemplating Manchester and the chaos potential of an eight-year-old who can bind spirits. Pet ownership will never be the same again.