On relaxation and positive life choices

First things first: this week was long and awful. Period started, homework kicked my ass, and sleep occasionally didn't happen. Though that last part was kind of my own fault, as I have a love-hate relationship with horror stories.

One day I'll learn, but apparently not yet.

I finished coloring a picture. I just haven't scanned it yet. it worked out well, I think. Used the horrible line art to my advantage. The lovely princess managed to not have any eyes drawn in. So I of course assumed she was a hell beast assuming human form and gave her red eyes. Will scan it...later. When I haul my scanner out.

The capstone of this week was yesterday. I had volunteered to help with the opening of the new engineering lab building, not really knowing what that implied. It lasted longer than anticipated. I got there at one and we were finished a bit after four. I showed up, got my tshirt, and managed to put it on backwards. One of my professors talked to me for five minutes without telling me I'd done so. (Thanks, prof.) 

After I fixed that, I was basically a booth babe. I hung around the machines and explained what some of them did - lathes to be exact - and made conversation. Was briefly interviewed for the student paper. Talked to random people about the building, which is admittedly pretty snazzy, and classmates who wandered by. Managed to not make complete fool out of self.

Then as I was leaving, one of the tents for the event, which apparently hadn't been tied down... caught the wind, and went flying.

Into someone's car.

I thought "oh, well, shit, I should probably see if I can free that car," so I did.

The person who owned the car was close behind me, so we managed to get the tent off. And he discovered that his car had been scratched up, as that is what happens when it gets attacked by carnivorous tents. (Though the tent got the worst of it, with some of its supports sheered in half.) Then we hung out considering what to do, because fuck if he was going to pay for fixing his car. So we called security to file a claim, and I stuck around as a "yeah this totally happened" witness.

So that was exciting.

And then I was tired and grumpy and overheated, and glooped around in my room for a while. Relaxation was aided with a cup of tea with some pear vodka mixed in, and I set to writing. Only managed a bit, and then got distracted.

Then, after a while, I realized what I had started doing. Being slightly drunk is nice, relaxing and letting me forget the pressure I feel sometimes. A brief period of time when nothing matters, and it's incredibly tempting.

It is also a dumb fucking idea. 

I have way too many alcoholics in my family and too much familiarity with my own brain to want to go down that path. Catching myself thinking that alcohol is a release, or a way to write, or even a way to help me sleep - I don't want to go there.

I poured out the rest of the bottle, and I'm not going to be buying more.

So, this week in summary: miserable with good decisions made anyway.