I started edits of Harvest this morning. Not through the first chapter yet. I need to do a fix on all three covers for The Reaping, I discovered this morning, but at least I found it before the print copies.
I swear I fixed it, and it’s not something you can notice in the e-book cover (I hope).
The pre-order is loading up on the sites. Amazon has unlinked the books from the series, I sent an email about twenty-four hours ago and haven’t heard back. I had heard Amazon customer service has gone downhill and I can see it. Normally I have an initial response within an hour.
My joints hurt, my back hurts. Somehow my backside and all the thigh muscles hurt. What the hell have I been doing in my sleep? Running marathons?
I haven’t taken valerian since Friday, and I’ve significantly reduced the St. John’s Wort. I just basically wanted to see what happened. They aren’t meant to be a forever thing, they’re supposed to help you through a spot.
I’m definitely sleeping like I’ve taken the valerian, which is fantastic, but the joint pain is super annoying. For the St. John’s Wort, I can’t tell if it’s the lack of it, or the road test tomorrow spiking my anxiety.
We did a practice test last night, he said whether I passed or not would depend on who I got. Feck. that’s not good. Especially since I’m likely bound to get the strict one.
Fuck.
The St. John’s Wort I’ve been taking is my morning pill before school. It sets a precedent of not being a grumpy face as I walk in. I’ve been debating whether this would help or hinder the results. It’s reached the point where it balances my crabby face but is no longer effecting me the way it did before. I don’t get goofy, I’ve adjusted to it.
But if I get my license, my first pill would be taken after I arrive to school. For safety. There’s no study that says it impairs judgement in the least, but if it can change your mood, I probably shouldn’t have it in my system when I drive and each pill lasts about four hours… so, I guess that answers that question for tomorrow.
The schedule for work hasn’t even been started yet. Super, just super frustrating. I need confirmation about Sunday.
I’m obviously not happy with my schedule or the expectations placed on me for the pittance of a wage. My old location expected the same… they paid me more. I know I’m worth more than this. But, sadly, I need the paychecks I get. I’d prefer more, but I definitely need what I’m receiving now.
It’s not like I can just walk way to another job or step down and feel comfortable in my life. Oh, I will step down if the promise is not carrier through on, if I’m not given the Sunday off or am told my days off are on hold or my schedule is changing. I need to look after me, and I know what I need.
These past thirty days have been fucking ridiculous, and when you include the ridicule I’ve been subject to from other managers and tea members, I’m about done with nonsense.
The one thing that’s kept me going is my writing, and I can’t even get to that. I’m doing a lot of work and not getting to do anything I love. When I finally do have ‘time to myself’ that’s all I want.
Time to my fucking self, where the world shuts the fuck up and leaves me alone.
But I didn’t move here to be alone. I moved because of family and I don’t want to spend the next two years as Gollum, hiding in the basement and hissing at everything that comes near me.
So, something has got to give or change. One thing I can do from my side is to keep publishing, to meet my deadlines and maybe work on a couple of novellas. The thing is, they would be a long time coming because school is still my number one focus. Come January, I’ll be in a better position money-wise and can definitely step down as manager, to devote the time I want/need to what I love and enjoy.
Until then, I’m waiting for that magical lottery ticket to show up.
I’m being sarcastic, of course, I don’t expect anyone to buy me a lottery ticket, nor do I expect things to change much. Things are boiling upward, a little more in sales every couple of months, that’s good. That will hopefully continue. All it really is, is the waiting game.
I keep having moments of not right-ness. Where I just don’t feel right, I know something is wrong, but I can’t just go home and sleep. And I know it’s due to these last thirty-someodd days and isn’t to do with an actual physical problem.
At least, not yet.
If I don’t get Sunday off, though, the stress could wear at me so much that I end up with an actual ailment.
Aya DeAniege 