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T. Petrichor

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re \\ spawn [14 May 2019 · 9:04am]
[ mood | pensive ]

My official start date at Blue Pearl is May 23rd, 2019.
My official last day at Westgate is May 20th.

I am so petrified that I'm actually quite numb?
// My little aquarium & fish bois make me feel serene. Only three glass cats now, but Cory Matthews the Corydora (HAHAHAHAH) and suckerboi are still kickin'. Lost Planet is totally fine of course. And one of the cherry shrimp died. I don't like those neocoridina -- too tiny and they don't eat the carnivore pellets.  Can never even see them. Gonna throw some Amanos in there instead, soon.

Still trying to refrain from buying a bigger tank ...

// And still obsessed with The Sims.


// Myself & my poor dead child, Betsy, living the dream alone.
// Ti & Sora, hiding away.
// Ansem has his prize, at a Hollow Bastion remake. He's made his mark(s) and he's made her a home -- and he means to keep it that way.

Time for more torture. //
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Borneo Sucker 💋 [05 May 2019 · 9:45am]
[ mood | stressed ]

// Well, well, well, well welly well well wellwellwell.
Blue Pearl offered me a Dental / SX Assistant position (no ICU included and paying $2 more than I'm making) on Friday.

// Right after I found an even better hospital I want to work at even more, and right before one of the owners (Teri Skadron) emailed me saying "We are still interviewing, but ..." and asked me to come in for a working interview. Even though Wednesday I interviewed with her husband, Tom Skadron, and he said he wanted to hire me on the spot, but had to check with her first.

HAH, MY LIFE IS SO FUCKING HILARIOUS //
WHAT DO I EVEN FUCKNG DO //

I'm going to accept BP's offer, give my two weeks at Westgate, and if Skadron ends up wanting me, I'll just fuck right out of Blue Pearl. My anxiety is through the roof. I don't think I'll like Blue Pearl? But I can't stay at WG. I'm kind of BANKING on Skadron hiring me and saving me from both of those less desirable fates.

AND HOW THE HELL DO I GIVE NOTICE? I HAVEN'T DONE IT IN AT LEAST FIVE YEARS. I'M GOING TO HAVE TO TRAIN SOMEONE TO DO THE FOOD? NICHOLA HAS A NEW JOB TOO. SHE STARTS MAY 20th. BAILEE BETTER NOT BE A FUCKING BITCH TO ME ONCE I PUT THOSE TWO WEEKS IN. SHE SUCKS. SO DOES JAMIE AND THE SHIT BRIGADE (Choua, Annabelle, SAP, and H3). CAN'T WAIT TO GET OUT OF THERE. TERI SKADRON HASN'T EVEN RESPONDED TO SCHEDULING MY WORKING INTERVIEW AND IT'S BEEN TWO DAYS. SHE BETTER RESPOND TOMORROW OR I WILL VOMIT.

// Fuck this shit, I'm out.

I bought three glass cats for my fish tank yesterday and one was dead this morning. One of the other original three also died. The others are fine? Have four now. Also got a Borneo Sucker for free cus he hopped out of the net when catching him. He's fine too 💋
// Hope all my new buds live!!

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Inspire // Or Killing Time? [28 Apr 2019 · 1:21pm]
[ mood | groggy ]

I redownloaded Sims 3 and have obsessed over it for days.

It inspires me for XOXO; but is it really just killing all of my time?
I've been playing on my new laptop.


Isn't it all so lovely?
Cal & Prue on their private island, doing weird stuff to each other, practicing alchemy, cutting gems, adopting shelter cats, falling in love, fishing, riding (and talking) to dolphins, and eventually saving Atlantis from tyranny. If only I would write the damn thing instead of pretending to.

I also, on a whim, bought a 3 gallon carbon/aquaponics duo fish tank, and have been obessing over that since then, too. Have a betta named Lost Planet in there, 3 cherry shrimp, 3 glass cats, and a corydora. I'm trying desperately to refrain from buying ANOTHER tall 5 gallon fish tank because where the hell would I put it, nowhere that's where, and I don't fucking need 3 fish tanks. And don't ever let me try my hand in a saltwater tank because all of that sounds ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE and I ABSOLUTELY WANT ONE.

Someone tried to break into my CR-Z two nights ago and scratched it all up, AGAIN. It makes me want to kill myself.

And finally, I didn't get the Internal Medicine position. They had me come back to check out a Dental and Opthalmology position but both of those include working 7-6pm shifts in the ER Saturday AND Sunday, every other week, and fucking, no thank you.

So my dream didn't happen, my job still fucking sucks and I hate everyone there, and I don't want to be alive, thank you so much.
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30 + 1; [18 Apr 2019 · 12:21pm]
[ mood | depressed ]

[ music: Creation Comes Alive | Petit Biscuit ]

// Today is my birthday.
AJ & I are going to the aquarium at the Mall of America. Hopefully no one throws us off a balcony!

My interview at Blue Pearl, I thought, went well. They sprang a vet tech skills test on me when I walked in, so a good majority of those I didn't know (couldn't remember them from tech school six+ years ago) but despite that I felt hopeful. Since then I've been playing phone tag with the hiring team manager for three fucking days. I feel at this point it's safe to assume they didn't hire me, because why would they put so little stock in calling me the fuck back? She's called once on Tuesday Morning but I was walking to my car so I didn't know. I've called twice since then and she's been in meetings. This is fucking torture. I couldn't focus at all yesterday (my day off). But part of me also wants to assume they don't want to hire me, because by now she could've fucking written that in a fucking email and ended this fucking agony??????!

My new laptop came but I haven't picked it up from Kevin's, yet. I was planning to tomorrow.

I took all these days off for my birthday in order to go to a cabin, then I had to pet sit. Also, I feel terrible and worthless and awful about life in general so I didn't find it pertinent to spend money on myself to celebrate another stagnant year. I thought I was depressed because it was winter but winter is pretty much over now (it snowed last Wed, Thurs, Fri and melted already) and I still feel as bad, if not worse, than before. It's probably the Nexplanon implant, but I want to die.

Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.

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take me to an alternate age [08 Apr 2019 · 6:54pm]
[ mood | apathetic ]

[ music: Come Away | Son Lux ]

// I feel so strange posting my writings on this here website, where no one will read it.

WHY DO I BOTHER // WHY DO I CARE // WHY DO I CONTINUE WITH THIS FRUITLESS ENDEAVOR // WHY DID I MAKE ANOTHER LJ // MY ENTRIES THERE LIVE FOR A SINGLE DAY, WHEN I THEN DELETE THEM BECAUSE THEY NO LONGER AESTHETICALLY PLEASE ME //

SON LUX RELEASED AN ALBUM OF B SIDES //
I WANT TO DROWN IN SON LUX // SHOVE IT IN EACH // ALL // EVERY ORIFICE

SUFFOCATE ME WITH SON LUX AND LET ME FADE AWAY TO NOTHING



f̵̪͕̝̹̹̤̟̳͋̏͑̂ͅů̶̡̨͕̤̮͍̪̞̣̬̜̖͎̘̑͗͂̂͋̋̌̈́̚͜c̴̙̲̪͍̗̖̙͕̝̮̔ͅķ̴͚̤͉̬̗̭̮͈̦̾̇̉̅̿̈́̒͋͛̅͐̑̔i̵͇͇̤̣̰͙̘͒̋̇̽̂̔̽͐͑͌͝͝͠n̸͖̜̥̘͈͌̃̂̆̑̆́̎̑̋͗͘̚̕g̶̡̧̡̲̱̪̾̔̐̕͜͝ͅ ̷̛̳̼̥̣̳̝͔̕ͅs̵̫̦̙̿t̸̨̬͖̬̹͍̖̘̝̰́̓͝a̷̢̡̖̪̰̼̪͈͔̮̤͖͇͊͌͗̅͑̋͗̑͜r̵̢̛̠̗͇̱͓̬͇͈͋̾̑̂͊́̾̈́͘d̴̡̙̅̏u̴̢̧̜̻̩̳͓̪̣̼͍̹̞̞͒͂̿͋́̈́ş̸̡̢̨̻̗̤̜̞̣̮̘̊̌̀̓͐̚͝ͅṭ̴̮̲̣͚́̔͋̈̄́͆̌̉̌̈́͆͠,̴̰̩̭̥͌͛̈́̊̀̋̚̕͠ ̴͎͈͚͎͇̦̬̭̍̾͋̓̀͂̑̏̐̊̃̎̕͘b̸̢̛̛͉̳̮̼̜̬̩̰̎͝ͅa̷͚̺͋̀͒̿̓̾͑b̸͇͓̩̫̬͙̟̫͈̱̤͙̹̮̌̾̈͂̈́̔̄́͜ỷ̷̧̜͍̯̪̝̣̉̒͌̚̚͘̕̚͝



Work was fuckin' terrible again, how [ not ] shocking [ even a little tiny bit ]. I fucking cannot get out of there fast enough. Nobody there gives a fuck and well now guess what, NEITHER DO I BABY!

Did you like So Bitter Lemon?
I posted the opening scene. I've written .. 2? Paragraphs? Since that.

I wrote that in like // DECEMBER
Depression is so fun.

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So Bitter Lemon // [06 Apr 2019 · 12:19pm]
DREAMER.PNG
2189 A.R.
(the future least desirable)




Marou//

The power is out.
It is nighttime—though only moments ago, Marou is sure, he was shielding his eyes from the sun.
         He tries to take in the room, but it is so dark. All he can see are dying embers in the fireplace (how long ago had it burned out? The house feels cold) and the reflection of stars shining out on the ice shards, broken over the lake. He’s mid-stride, moving towards the hearth. When his foot meets the floor, it catches him off guard—like he didn’t expect it so soon. He stumbles. Normally he’s not walking around when time plays these tricks on him. 
         Where is Rhi?
         He sees it, when he blinks. Where he was, where he’d traveled. The bright coral sun, the beach, the cool waves at his feet—all gone away when his eyes open again.
         What year had he left?
         What year is it now?
         He can hear ticking. It’s loud, resonating, making the ground shake. No matter how long he’s lived with it, it’s always strange to return to. He looks wildly for the source, but then remembers it’s just part of the house—an all-encompassing clock, without a face or hands, always ticking, echoing, pumping through the walls, the furniture, even him—so much like a heart. Instead he finds her.
         She’s sitting on the couch, watching him. The hounds are curled up on either side of her, their heads nestled close on her lap. She’s rising, reaching for him, and when she moves Marou can see golden dust spill off her skin. It swirls around her, floats into the air. Like bubbles underwater when she dives from the surface. Like sparks becoming ash as they fall. She snaps her fingers and the glow bursts out, explodes like a tiny firework in the middle of the living room.
“Did I lose you, Lemon?”
His eyes are adjusting to the blackness. The sparks flowing from her skin start to spread, trailing light to every nook and cranny, high up into the vaulted roof, reflecting off the copper pipes, the gears and cogs that burst from the floor, that live in the corners, that hide in plain sight. Those haven’t always been there, have they?
It must be the present.
Or maybe it is the past?
            “What year is it?”

         She doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s 2189.”
         “So the world is still ending, then?”
         “It is, sunshine,” she says, moving closer to him, her hand rising to his cheek. “But I hardly think that matters to us.”
         “How long before the house collapses into the lake?”
         “Many, many years from now,” she assures him. She touches him finally, her thumb tracing a familiar path along his skin. She moves the back of her other hand to his forehead, and he both wants to fold into her caress and shove her away at the same time. He does neither.
         She must notice, because then she asks, “Do you hate me tonight?”
         Marou blinks. He isn’t quite sure. When he first opened his eyes, she was taking up most of the space in his mind. Where she was. If she was alright. With her hand on his forehead, he feels a mixture of desire—wrong, corrupt—tinged with revulsion. And while he watches her, no matter how many times he tries to blink it away, she glows. Sparkling, golden, gleaming brightly in his eyes.
Has she always shone like this?
         “I can’t tell,” he says.
The dogs have barely moved, except to reposition themselves after their cushion had gone. They are watching Rhi and Marou silently, waiting for them to come back to the couch.
         She hasn’t stopped caressing his cheek. “Will you lay with me? The sun won’t rise for another eighteen hours.”
         His head is going foggy. His eyes feel heavy with sleep, and maybe a little lust, too. She doesn’t wait for him to answer—just slides her fingers down his neck, the length of his arm, and laces her hand into his.
         He follows her into the bedroom.
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Tree Size // [04 Apr 2019 · 9:36pm]
[ mood | distressed ]

[ music: Holocene | Bon Iver ]

// Blue Pearl called to schedule an interview and tour. I'm not going to jinx it ...

I've decided this very night that I'm going to buy a new laptop. So sad! My cute tiny icy blue grandpa lappy is so dear to me. I never want to leave it. But hot damn, it's so old, and so tiny, Windows 8 alone is taking up its entire 21.5gb drive. It still runs, but barely. I haven't tried running my game in many moons, and I bet it would only crash if I did. Gotta finish that damn game!! But not on Grandpa Ice.

My love, my loaf, my Wolf Boy, my darlin'.
Last night I threatened to break up with him because every time I ask him a serious question, like where he wants to fucking eat, or if we should go to the book store or not, he answers me with dad jokes. There are only so many dad jokes a girl can take. Don't worry, we're still together, but DAMN. First he forces me to see Alita Battle Angel (great movie) and now this? Endless Dad Jokes? The Lord must be testing me.


I've been obsessing over these Dolls again.
The evolution of T. Pet


Current Day //

And // Or

Also, including //

I don't think I'll ever truly be satisfied.
I'll keep on making these, year after year, and oh hell yea I'll keep posting them.
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