It seems that screaming at the top of my lungs on the internet (real life would do too but i might get arrested there–hypocritical of society, isn’t it? I guess it’s easier not to infringe on others’ space on the internet and there is more public space IRL) is the only way for me to destress. Which is mega unfortunate. I wonder if I am now officially a writer.

I been doing a programming problem all day for work. I love it. I love that for once my job is at the computer, using my brain, instead of manual dexterity with tools and instruments, manual labor, getting RMI.

This is gloriuos.

I want it like this all the time.

So there’s hope, that I finished my credentials in data science, get a lead through my current job to something bioinformatics-ey. Keep studying keep studying keep studying, even when you’re done keep studying, it looks good. Never stop. More rewards, I suppose. Cookie on a string for little doggie? :) doggie iz me


But what I mean is, yes, well, work is great today, but I cant’ relax on my breaks because I need to be constantly working according to my brain I haven’t worked enough. I feel like according to my college standards I haven’t worked enough. I haven’t solved this problem but it’s not due till next week so why get anxious? I’ve put in some work why not take a ten minute chat break with mom? My brain wants the problem done NOW. Or, WITHOUT ANY BREAKS. What the fuck. ugh. Or I feel lazy. Or I get anxious.

It’s not fair.

My eyes are bleeding from this new monitor. Apparently higher refresh rate is better quality, and brighter is better for the eyes. But my eyes are just watering up. I’ll chalk it up to contrast, not used to it. Not “unhealthy”. :)

So I need to either train myself to be happy with small breaks (sounds really hard for me to me), or to work nonstop (less hard! :)).

Now my coworker is angry at me psychically and I’m in trouble.

But this is a delusion.

How can I tell?

Practice and training, friends. Practice and training. I’m not totally lost. Therapy DOES help. It does make a difference.

Now if only I could get my emotions under control. Like, my anger, for example. Sexy female voice through the window just said “uhu” in agreement.

I agree with it for being sexy.

What can I say. It’s a mixed bag.


But we’re not done here yet.

I need to stop Tom Sawyering myself to death. I need to learn to keep going and not copping out. I’ve gotten into so many bad habits. No one gives me any more chances, though, is my argument–even people who should not know about how bad it’s gotten for me. And even then I have excuses. No one knows how bad schizoaffective disorder gets. And I don’t want to believe it gets that bad for others. And even if it does, it doesn’t matter. We work toward a solution. Awwww my message was mis-timed well fuck you, fuck off, shitheads.

Looking for the right preacher again.

Pricher, is more like it.

I’m just a regular guy. Leave me alone.

I’m a scientist who wants a happy life.

That’s all.

And I’m either fatigued from overwork, or fed up mentally from stupidity. So I have to break for one reason or another. And why is that a crime?


Go slit ur throats.

Garbage humans.

Garbage demons.


This is ridiculous.

I give up.

*calls white flag*

*gets shot in back of head with magnum*

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