To be honest, a few coworkers have showed interest in Black Friday: A Zombie Story. Thought I had a few copies at home for sale, but I didn’t. So I went on Kindle Direct Publishing to see how much it’d cost to buy a few copies.
Turns out I was in the middle of updating the book and had to go through some things. But I realized, since KDP doesn’t have a mobile site, I needed a computer.
I felt more like being lazy in bed than sitting at my desktop. So I thought let’s whip out the old maid.
Several minutes later
It didn’t take as long as I expected to boot up. Once I put in my WiFi password the date updated. I had just logged into KDP when The Kid woke up and came to my room with her bedsheet in hand like she was gonna sleep with me. So here I am laying next to her until I know she’s out, with a possible fire hazard on my bed.
I don’t know why the laptop would be a fire hazard, she’s old?
Anyway I have a feeling I’m not gonna get much out of it. It was purchased in the Windows 7 era. It has windows 10, because of a free update. Heck, she sports The Sims 2.
Also, I battery life was trash before I got the desktop, not that I traveled with her much. It shocker, it’s actually charging, considering at boot up it gave me an error.
Another item of note: WordPress.com, my website host, will not load on it. I’ve tried Firefox, my browser of choice, and Microsoft Edge. I mean I guess that’s what it is. In fact this website “CrashdLanding.com” struggled to load. It also, in fact, continues to say “not responding”.
My leg is quite warm
The temperature of the computer in my lap is going up, a significant amount of apps start their processes in “not responding” mode. But there’s still quite a bit of exploring to do. Especially considering there’s music on here I forgot about!
I’m gonna continue to explore this massive old mountain of my past and see what I stumble upon. But I’ll tell ya right now I’m not gonna last long. Ya girl is sleepy.
I can’t say I’m obsessed with it. I don’t know a ton about it like an obsessed person would. I like the stars, I believe in Pluto, and I am amazed at the unknown-ness of it.
I don’t believe that we will ever meet alien life in my lifetime, I don’t know if I believe it exists, but I do not deny the possibility.
If aliens do exist they know better than have anything to do with our planet.
I have multiple NASA clothing items. A classic NASA t-shirt. One that says “not flat we checked”, but in a NASA style logo. And a sweet Walmart NASA hoodie I’ve been wearing at home daily. It needs washed.
90% of my “brand” (that’s hilarious) has an underlying space theme. One logo I designed looked a little like a planet with a ring.
So we have established that I enjoy space themed stuff
And now we have the first images from the James Webb Space Telescope. And there is one particular image that stood out to me.
I stole it for you.
Why this one? I have absolutely no clue but by George isn’t it breathtaking? The lights, the colors. The textures. If you could reach out and touch it what would it feel like? If I could live in that mass I would.
This one is called the Carina Nebula, or it’s the edge of it. Stars are born in it. Some of the tallest “peaks” in this gaseous mass are seven light years high. That is unfathomable.
One thought stood out when I saw that image
That was “when I die launch my remains into space and straight into that cradle of life so I may remain among the stars.” And then, after I let go the logic that NASA would not launch human remains (how about cremains) into space, I thought, “or perhaps I could become a star. Since stars are born there, after all.
Imagine the fantastical unbelievablilty of it. To Crash Land in the cradle of life where stars are born.
99% of my dreams do not come true but I have an excellent imagination. Once I’m dead I won’t know what happens to my body. So I can imagine that I become a star.
Many moons ago, I decided I would “shop around” for new music. I had heard this lovely song, and as I am wont to do, I became OBSESSED. I googled the artists, and found The Civil Wars. The song was “Barton Hollow”.
I recently mentioned them in a blog post about “Sharpe” an unfinished story that still haunts me to this day. I had listened to The Civil Wars first album, along with Adele’s 21, on repeat during much of the writing process. Upon mentioning them, I realized that I hadn’t heard “Barton Hollow” in a while. So I opened the music app on my phone to find IT WASN’T THERE. All I had of The Civil Wars was their final self-titled album. BUT I WANTED TO HEAR BARTON HOLLOW.
Turns out I purchased it on amazon, along with another smaller album (told you i was obsessed).
After multiple searches of the website, and the iOS Amazon Music App, i found that I could not download the album “Poison and Wine” onto my computer without downloading the Amazon Music App for Windows. And then, I couldn’t get it on my phone, unless i PAID FOR iTunes Match.
Which I regret to inform you i did buy. I have a LOT of music not purchased on iTunes.
And to be frank, there are several songs I have purchased through iTunes that don’t appear on my phone, but I’ve learned a few tricks to get them to pop up.
Right now, its 5 til 12, i have almost forgotten about the ugly spider i saw (he was HUGE). and I need to get this posted before midnight to count as the same day lol. Goodnight!
First off the birthday is not the day you were born but the anniversary of the day you were born. Wait. Duh.
Someone once said to me that your first birthday was actually your second birthday because the day you were born is the first. But the day you celebrate every year is your birthday, so it’s the anniversary of the day you came out of your momma, in whatever method. That day is the first of the rest of your life.
That all sounds more like a shower thought.
According to this random website I found when googling why do we celebrate birthdays, the tradition of celebrating widespread only goes as far back as the 19th century, when people began to actually like kids?
Apparently if you read up on it, it gets super sexist. Romans were among the first to celebrate but only the men’s birthdays.
Assigning numbers to someone’s existence
I could say something profound and deep here about how age is just a number placed upon a person numbering their days of suffering upon the earth. A number which can determine their worth and value to other people depending on their path and station in life.
But it’s legit just the number of rotations you’ve ridden this rollercoaster of life around the sun. With each and every turn of this constant spin cycle your body decides to quit more and more tasks at an alarmingly faster rate.
Girl, you ok?
I’m fine, chill.
But there are not many people who can, with all honestly, tell you that it doesn’t make them feel good when someone wished them a happy birthday. Yesterday the young lady (that makes me sound super old), whom I don’t think I’ve ever seen before in my entire life, wished me a happy birthday. It made me feel quite good.
Today, my sister in law walked back into a store after having left it, just to be sure she told me happy birthday.
Despite the fact that I have been away from it for 200+ days, I’m sure I have at least a few Facebook birthday wishes, and I feel awful for not responding to them.
Six years ago, my family surprised me with a little birthday party. We had homemade pizzas and they got me gifts.
A whole day celebrating you. You were born and someone wants you to have a good day. People care. That’s important.
There have been years that I have not wanted to celebrate at all. I have not wanted to acknowledge my birthday. But my husband would never not do something. Because he loves me, in-spite of all my nonsense, he loves me.
Sure, you’re one year older
But you don’t have to look at it that way. You’ve survived yet another ride on this carousel of chaos, you’ve lived to blow out another candle, or listen to another Happy Birthday song. However you recognize the yearly event of still kicking around this big, oddly shaped, not quite round ball of blue and green, you did it, and there might be one or two people out there who are glad you did.
And that can make you feel pretty darn good. Even if you’re turning 37. Again.
I just spend half an hour watching my nephew’s tick tack Live
He was playing guitar. I didn’t realize how good he’d gotten. He now says he will learn “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel. It was one of my Mom’s favorites. I’m sure he could learn it quite quickly.
Watching him makes me want to bring out the ukulele I bought like four years ago and try to learn something on it. But I’m old and my hands hurt. And where even is the thing?
Today we celebrated my birthday
The Hubs had been asking me all week where I wanted to eat for my birthday and I could never think of anything. He said if I didn’t come up with something he’d surprise me.
We ended up at a local restaurant called Cloud 9. It was delicious, and I even got desert.
Honestly be best part was spending time with him and The Kid. They are the best part of my life.
Also I didn’t have to work.
Hey did you know that it would take $25,000 to pay off my debt? Yeah, I can thank that free credit monitoring from Capital One for keeping me posted on that.
Tomorrow is my actual birthday
I have had a few very tiny moments where I kinda felt guilty for not being on Facebook. My personal account is still active and several people (who hadn’t communicated with me but once a year anyway) will wish me happy birthday there. Even though I’ve been off Facebook for, like, 210 days. But most of them pay zero attention to me anyway, so it’s their bad if I do not respond to their birthday wishes.
Current working theory is I have a spider bite.
The black dots/dashes are me tracking the redness size. It is warm to the touch—noticeably different from the rest of my leg. It’s tender and sensitive. And it itches like HELL.
Like, go insane from the itching, filet-o-flesh to stop it, bonkers itchy. And this happened A WEEK AGO. I’m pretty sure it got bigger overnight, although I didn’t notice it this big this morning.
I did peroxide the open wounds hoping to perhaps eat away the flesh so I could either not itch anymore or lose the leg. I will neither confirm nor deny whether I hoped my leg would rot away so I’d never have to work again.
Anyway, I applied some antibiotic ointment to the holes—they’re not really open but they’re not actively bleeding either—and a bandage. But that was driving me crazy too. I take Benadryl every 8 or so hours and try to keep it propped up.
My big old fat legs tend to swell and my running theory is any type of trauma or injury to them heals slower because of that poor circulation.
Perhaps I’ll wake in the morning and my leg will have rotted off. At least it won’t itch anymore!
Tomorrow I’ll post (hopefully before noon), a video explaining how my next bit of fiction is happening.
Not because I’m sick or someone else is sick. Or because of some family obligation. But because I just needed some time off.
But I didn’t. As I’d told one of my bosses, I’m a glutton for punishment. You see, two days ago I was an hour and a half late getting off (OT paying my bills this week woo). This wasn’t because I was forced too. I just didn’t want to (a) leave something half finished and (b) didn’t want to leave it on my teammate. As I was leaving I told manager A and my teammate, “shoo I might not be here tomorrow.” I was being absolutely not serious and they knew it.
So the next day, when A told me, laughing, “Thanks for showing up!” We both laughed a little. Little did he know I had texted my husband a few hours earlier saying, “I might call in tomorrow.”
There are a few reasons why. These include but aren’t limited to the fact that I’m so exhausted that I napped on lunch (undisturbed), I’m burned out, and I could use some quality family time.
Also a factor in me wanting to call in: the fact that the two days afterward I was already off. So I’d have three days in a row.
So why didn’t you?
It was the fact that I am a glutton for punishment, and the inescapable guilt I always feel when calling in, regardless of the reason. Honestly the last time I remember not feeling even a small amount of guilt for calling in was when my mother was dying. To be honest, I couldn’t remember to even call in some of those days, much less have room for guilt related to it.
So, despite the fact that I’d already started to get excited about starting my tiny vacation a day early, when my husband asked me when I came home, “So are you going to call in?”
My response was, of course: “Probably not.”
I begrudgingly went in to work, despite the absolute desire not to, like a good little employee. And I did legit tell manager B that I wanted to but figured I better not.
The fact, too, that my child needs dental work and I want to be able to be there for her, well, I need my options open with time.
All The Regerts
However, it didn’t take long for me to regret showing up. It never does, sadly. Before the two hour mark, I was down in the floor, fixing a vendor mistake, as is often the case, on my knees. I made the terrible mistake of turning without moving my knees.
“Oh well, that’s not good.” Are the words i verbalized when I felt the telltale Twinge. I cannot explain why but the only thing I can think of when I get The Twinge is a salt grinder.
The Twinge usually happens with some bending or twisting motion. It’s a tingly, faintly painful, feeling. Sorta like when your foot was, like, dead asleep, and it’s coming back and there’s these pins and needles? But like, all at once. It lasts a few seconds and then it’s gone. But what’s left behind is pain with movement.
This time, as opposed to last, it’s more in the middle of my back, instead of the lower back. My absolute best guess is muscle related, because otherwise how the hell am I still walking?!
If after all these years and all these Twinges, if this is not a muscle but a spinal related issue (since it’s my back), how does my lower half still function?
Bad Luck, Bad Karma, or Fate?
Now, whose to say, had I called in, I’d not moved in a funny way, and not had the same or similar issue? I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I’m pretty sure I believe in bad karma for me.
Because of course I was thinking of taking a mental health day for myself, and end up with a sore back while at work. Luckily, though, it wasn’t much worse. I feel like my middle back has less movement. It’s more, stable? My lower back, I bend a lot. I was able to function today without altering my movements too drastically.
I’m gonna be 37 (again) in two days.
I’m not gonna let this put a damper on my two whole days off. I’m gonna sleep in (8:30? 9:00?! Scandalous! OUTRAGEOUS!). I’m going to spend quality time with The Hubs and The Kid.
But right now, my melatonin (which I don’t usually take if I’m not working the next day), and the Benadryl (which I took to combat this bug bite) are currently fighting to see who gets to punch me in the brain. Time for sleeps.
What Do You Think of When you hear Giant African Land Snails?
This morning, as I was avoiding going in to work, and reading news on Yahoo!, when I stumbled upon a very interesting article. This article is titled “Effort begun to eradicate giant African snails in Florida” and it is literally about snails that eat buildings.
The fact that my brain turned this:
Into the thing in the poorly made Canva clickbait above, well, that’s just who I be. And we don’t judge here. We are a judge free zone.
However, it is true that these guys do literally eat buildings. They apparently enjoy the delicious delicacy of plaster and stucco. They also, like a true multitasking invasive species, carry diseases.
The article specifically mentions something called the rat lungworm, which, I’m not going to think to hard about, because well, look what my brain did with a giant snail. I have a very literal mind. But the rat lungworm can cause meningitis in humans.
And guess whose to blame for this chunky shelled slug (yes I’m sure there’s a difference) being in our country and not where its native.
Apparently we imported them as pets. Yes, I can imagine being bag-checked at an airport. First, they at some point had to ask someone, “do you have anything to declare?”
“Oh just a giant land snail.” And then they all laugh.
And then later, they check the bags and there’s a slimy shelled creature. Is it apparent I’ve never been on a plane?
But the problem with these dudes isn’t just that they eat buildings, or carry diseases, but they enjoy 500 other things to eat, that we eat too. Including but not limited to (cause these are hungry boys) peanuts, beans, cucumbers, and melons.
They also share a characteristic with rabbits. I’m quite sure you know what I’m talking about but just in case: they make a lot of babies. The giant African land snail can lay up to 1200 eggs a year.
Now I absolutely have to bring up the most ridiculous fact in this entire article: they had to mention that Nikki Fried (cool name BTW) who is commissioner of the state Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, is a Democrat. I’m not entirely sure what the importance of that was, maybe besides the fact that she’s running for governor. Maybe her determination to eradicate the snails again will help her win. But we don’t Politic here either, my dudes.
Yes, I did just gloss over the whole again part. It was for dramatic effect. Did I do it right? Yes, they had this issue not once but twice before. The most recent campaign—see what I did there since shes’s running for gov—took ten years and they captured 170,000 snails in Miami-Dade County. “I think they missed one or two” would be funny to put here, if the county of the current invasion, Pasco County, wasn’t several counties away.
So far, this go ‘round, they’ve managed to capture 1,000 snails in the area they quarantined (I know the snails hate that word as much as we all do). The snails were initially spotted by a homeowner, and the properties involved (meaning having their buildings gnawed on by snails) are being treated with a molluscicide bait. Hole up imma google that. A pesticide against slugs. There’s one called Sluggo 😂.
The slugs are illegal to own without a permit. The fact that you can get a permit for a snail, and own this thing, despite its obvious problems… well that just sounds like Florida to me. Its also illegal to move them or dirt out of the quarantine area. Floridians are expected to call 888-397-1517 if they see one of the distinctive snails. These bad boys can grow up to 8 inches long and “have a distinctive whirled, brown mottled shell.”
They are also not the escargot type of snail. Thanks for that.
I had a vision one building-eating snails in my head all day, so, now you can too!
Despite the fact that I spent the first half of my day in a terrible mood, as always, and I was about an hour and a half late going home today, I came home in a great mood.
I am still in a great mood.
Because I am in drugs. No not the clinically prescribed drugs one would take that would improve their mood, no.
No, I’m blaming the caffeine.
See, despite the fact that I am 100% not supposed to have caffeine, not even in chocolate (which, by the way, rude), I have it. I have too much of it. I don’t drink coffee regularly no. My vice is pop. Or soda if you will. But I won’t.
Pepsi mostly, but I do enjoy other fine caffeinated beverages, except energy drinks. But today, instead of Pepsi, I hit the hard stuff.
Ah yes. 91mg of caffeine in a 20oz bottle.
In comparison, a can of Pepsi, my drug of choice when I have cash, has about 24-27mg of caffeine. A 20oz bottle has 63. (1)
Did you know that caffeine is a stimulant? it is also the world’s most widely used psychoactive drug. Wild.
Also, they tell you to limit your caffeine while pregnant but if you have a premature infant (like my now 13 year old nephew) they give them caffeine to improve lung function and prevent breathing problems. (2)
I once had a doctor tell me (I’m still mad at that ENTIRE experience) that caffeine was one of the hardest to kick habits.
But let me tell you, I always notice a significant difference in myself if I have gone most of the day without it. I drank just half that bottle of Code Red Mountain Dew on lunch, and an hour and a half later I finished it. Within an hour of my list “hit” I was feeling better.
It’s likely that because of my inconsistent use of caffeine that it has this effect. It would most likely lose its effectiveness if I stuck with the same amount every day.
But by George my heart does seem to go absolutely bonkers sometimes, when I drink it. But then sometimes it doesn’t.
I think I’ll do more research on caffeine. I’m not good at all the chemical or biological names, like “methylxanthine class” and “adenosine” and “acetylcholine”. But I wouldn’t be mad at the Wiki-Rabbit Hole.
If you’ve known me, and my writing, for a while, then you know I’m absolutely terrible at finishing stories. These days anyway. I’m gonna blame exhaustion and depression. That way I don’t have to put the blame on myself.
One of my post popular stories (they’re all stories it seems weird calling them books) was Sharpe. If I recall correctly that was only going to be a working title.
What’s it about?
Sharpe was about a woman named Erin Sharpe (groundbreaking I know) who was co Stanton in motion, on a mission no she kept to herself. Until she met someone in a small town she just couldn’t leave. Until, that is, she had to. Read the first 1,000 words here.
I’m keeping that description vague on purpose. Needless to say, it was shaping up to be some of my best writing to date. There was language and scenes that I’d never written about before. I changed a lot of my style with that story.
It was also written initially by hand in one of those small personal Five Star notebooks, with the Bic Cristal pens in blue ink. Yes. I was specific. Mostly because both could fit in my pocket and I could sneak it into the floor at work. At the time I had a job that didn’t require a lot of undivided attention and I could sneak a word or two in.
I would write on break and lunch at work, and any chance I got. When I got a chapter or two written, I took it home and typed. I believe I mostly listened to Adele’s 21 and The Civil Wars albums during this time.
I. WROTE. MYSELF. INTO. A. HOLE.
Like, a deep hole that I couldn’t crawl out of. I became so confident in the story, which I believe I was sharing on my personal Facebook page in the notes feature (the good old days), that I wrote out the entire outline from start to finish (after I got so much written).
The problem with doing the outline, for me, was that I knew how I wanted it to end. I still remember how I wanted it to end. So, for me, it was done.
There was also the problem of the time jump. There was significant mystery in the first “part” that needed to be cleared up. So the second part involves a time jump. That time jump because a whole new story. A story that could stand on its own, and probably should have.
In order to bring Erin Sharks “back to life” and share her story with the world, it would need SIGNIFICANT rewriting and restructuring.
I am not opposed to the idea. I want to bring her back. I hate leaving things unfinished. Especially this thing. But circumstances do not allow me to work on it.
Those being the fact that I have 99 things to do and this blog is one of them.
She’s not completely forgotten. There’s a handful of people out there (like, three) who experienced her, and I knew they’d be thrilled to read the end. I’ve not given up in her yet.
I technically didn’t miss a day. My device glitched when I tried to post this. It showed it posted three times and I deleted two. Apparently I deleted all instances. Lol
At this blog-a-day thing.
As someone who would love for this to make them enough money to turn this into a full time job, literally anything I love to do that is, blogging every day is HARD.
Especially considering I have a full time job and a kid.
As well as undiagnosed depression and anger issues likely caused my depression and anxiety.
Now a smarter person would have prepared posts more than just a day in advance. Or in this case literal minutes before midnight. And I plan on getting this post out before midnight. So, forgive me if it’s nothing special.
You see, I got behind because we decided to take The Kid to see fireworks. Most neighboring towns had cancelled theirs due to a shooting in the area where three police officers and a K-9 officer lost their lives. But when The Kid wants to see them, and the neighboring county doesn’t cancel—because apparently they paid someone to put them on and there was no refund—you do it.
Even more so because you might get to see your sister and her crew.
Turns out I got to see my brother and his new wife (who I don’t think likes me but that’s beside the point).
Despite the excursion, I had mentally prepared to go home and stay up late to get the post for the next day ready and scheduled. But then the Kid started feeling bad. First it was a headache, then she threw up. Three times.
So we abandoned ship and left early. We got home with no issues on the way, but she ended up throwing up a significant amount just half an hour into being home. Luckily after that, we got her in bed and she passed out quickly, and woke up the next morning feeling like her normal self.
But then I had a migraine. So I spent most of the day doing absolutely nothing. I even forgot to call my dad back. I feel terrible about that part.
But I told myself I was going to call him today, and then I had a terrible day today. And despite the advice that every tells you, I brought my bad day home.
I need to get better about checking my self before I wreck myself.
Anyway, I’m gonna end this boring post here. Despite the ridiculous and boring content, it still qualifies as five days in a row. Goodnight folks and I hope to have something better for you tomorrow!