"You feel self-knowledgeable..."

I feel vaguely like an idiot. My grand moment of clarity which let me know the root cause of various emotionally overwrought outbursts (and inbursts--some only my cats are aware of) over the last N time periods illuminated that said cause was...something I'd actually thought to myself on several occasions before. For some reason, though, it only became real when I told someone else. I'm not quite sure I grok that. But I still feel dumb, because if I thought that was what it was, why the hell didn't I tell someone before this so the problem could get worked on?

Oh yeah. 'Cause it sounds petty and lame, it's quite irrational, and I felt I should be able to drown it out with logic, reason, and reassurance.

It's kind of funny how it's much easier to speak long and earnestly to others about the legitimacy of all feelings, including and especially the illogically-based ones, and how human beings aren't rational creatures, and all that than it is to apply those truisms to your own psyche.

(For those of you wondering: this doesn't have anything to do with sweh's current agitas; we just managed to time 'em together.)

graaargh

It's been a stressful day^Wweek^Wmonth. Not just the emotional escapades recounted in this and other LJs, but work has also been hectic; I had to helm the whole searching for new employee endeavor, and then of course when we selected a lucky victim, there is the setting up and the training (you don't think we have processes for this, do you?). That would have been enough, but we've also been getting a parade of difficult & annoying users. And user problems, too, I mean.

Today I have been especially b0rken, and further vexed by El Jefe showing up well over an hour late for the staff meeting, which meant that by the time we finished I had maybe five minutes to catch up on my work before it was time to leave. I was regaining a certain fragile tranquility sitting with my pooky on the train home; arrived at the house, got the mail, and found...

...an overnight parking ticket for Lurch for someplace in Summit, NJ. No, excuse me, not a parking ticket, a legal notice because I hadn't shown up for my court date for said parking ticket.

Lurch has never been to Summit. I'm not even sure I have ever been to Summit--in fact, I'm pretty sure I haven't. He's never been parked anyplace in Jersey overnight except for our driveway. And I know for damn sure no one had him the night of June 27.

I'm sure it's just something stupid, like a cop writing the plate down badly so "24C" became "24G" or whatever. No doubt it can be simply resolved by them saying "yes, the ticket is for a blue Chevy Nova" and me saying "well, this car is a white Ford Taurus, so FOAD". But it's just another pain in my ass at a moment when I really didn't need it.

stabby stabby donut hole

Tranquility regained via D&D (thank you zombywoof). I got to backstab a bugbear and nearly took it out in one shot; Go Me. On the down side, I was weak and had three Popems, which doesn't sound like a lot but threw off my happy calorie proportions by a big whomp. Considering I've been losing, on average, a pound a week, this is probably not a federal case, but you might argue that I've been losing a pound a week because I've been treating little slips like a federal case.

In the "thanks, I think" department, when I went in for the staff meeting, El Jefe glanced at me, did a double-take, and said something on the close order of "My God, you've gotten skinny, what the hell?" Since I am not as who should say skinny yet, this seems...excessive, but not unpleasing (even if the tone of voice was more what you'd use to say the same words to a cancer patient).