Emotions are so confusing.

There is apparently something disturbingly freeing in realizing you're only worth about as much as so much scrap in the eyes of someone you consider a friend.



Though on second thoughts, it may just be defense mechanisms kicking in. Hrm. Something to reflect on. Yes, I do spend an unhealthy amount of time questioning and analyzing my own emotional reactions to things. They never make sense.


I do hate confrontations, though, and I really hope I can pull this off without going passive aggressive as I at least used to always do.

I am hoping there's a reasonable explanation for all of it, but past experiences suggest that there won't be.

Char!

They moved the oven forward a few feet about two weeks ago, and ever since, the door has had a habit of inching shut instead of just staying open where we leave it. (Management has been informed, but I'm not sure they care, and it's not as if we can move the oven back, what with them moving the wall forward.) People keep getting burned by it! I am no exception. I was pulling muffins out and the door closed further than I'd thought it would (did I take longer? Or did it shut faster?) and I bumped against the 380+ degree metal door.

Fortunately, I am not an idiot and know how to deal with burns. I'm currently sporting a lovely almost-second-degree char-mark on my elbow. It doesn't hurt (I am, to the best of my knowledge, immune to pain from burns. I've no desire to fully test this by going and getting severe burns or anything of the sort, but past experiences show that burns - sun, oven, others - that by all rights should hurt me simply do not).

I'm the third or fourth person in as many days. The oven is out for blood.



It's the weekend of San Diego Comic Con! Alternators Rodimus is rather steadily making his way onto eBay and I am prepared to battle to the death to obtain him. So. Pretty. And it's Rodimus, and so he is just inherently awesome, anyway. (Plus he's using the Ford GT - same as Mirage - mold, which I love. Obviously he is just excellent and must be owned.) (Edit: No one died! MINE.)


Edit:
We found where the lightning strike mentioned here struck - the box elder behind the barn had a limb with a giant blast-mark on it.

I'm almost certain I'm going to be retiring my Final Fantasy XI account after Summer Fest ends. Sunbreeze Fest. Whatever they're calling it this year. The event's already underway, but the new ("new," maybe) event doesn't start until August. I'm going to check it out, but then I think I'll just... stop. Not delete anything, but stop. I have no friends in-game and the people I know out-of-game who promised me we'd level together went back on their word. It's hard to have fun completely on your own all the time.

Really, I shouldn't be surprised. That's what always happens. Damnit, though, that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm sorry I have a job and you guys don't! Sorry I have to go to work. Sorry you can't just wait until I get home and ask me to join you. I give up.

I'm sorry, Hisime, Ayarei, Kihara. I know you three won't hold it against me, but I'm still sorry. If I weren't so horribly pathetic and insecure and emotionally unstable as I apparently am, this wouldn't be a problem.