Slag (Meltdown?)
Jul. 18th, 2007 06:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jheti
I have always been hyperactive.
The reasons I can sit still at a computer are as follows:
1) My hands are constantly moving. Keyboard, mouse, tablet (on occasion), or reaching for something.
2) LOUD, continuous musical bombardment through headphones.
That's it. Period. And I about vault from my chair when the phone rings. I'm all, "*GASP* Congressional office. Intern speaking. Pls to let me foist you off on someone with actual qualifications? *Punch the appropriate buttons and hang up, shaking all over.*"
Well, that's the panic talking. Considering I used to scream and throw the phone around, then cry and choke for twenty minutes at a stretch, I think leaping like a goddamn gazelle is an improvement, thanks. Plus, I'm cubicle bound. Anything the normals can't see, they can't mock you for. *Halo.*
Anyway. It's not so much that I have the energy, as that I am bound by my sacred ninja honor to use every ounce of energy I have.
(The hell is that sentence? I'm no ninja. I'm a rogue. Anyway.)
A quart of coffee later, I feel nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing.
The perpetual motion machine within will not start.
It's actually a little scary.
I have to go to work. Let's move. Come on.
Yeah. I've got nothing.
FUCK.
The reasons I can sit still at a computer are as follows:
1) My hands are constantly moving. Keyboard, mouse, tablet (on occasion), or reaching for something.
2) LOUD, continuous musical bombardment through headphones.
That's it. Period. And I about vault from my chair when the phone rings. I'm all, "*GASP* Congressional office. Intern speaking. Pls to let me foist you off on someone with actual qualifications? *Punch the appropriate buttons and hang up, shaking all over.*"
Well, that's the panic talking. Considering I used to scream and throw the phone around, then cry and choke for twenty minutes at a stretch, I think leaping like a goddamn gazelle is an improvement, thanks. Plus, I'm cubicle bound. Anything the normals can't see, they can't mock you for. *Halo.*
Anyway. It's not so much that I have the energy, as that I am bound by my sacred ninja honor to use every ounce of energy I have.
(The hell is that sentence? I'm no ninja. I'm a rogue. Anyway.)
A quart of coffee later, I feel nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing.
The perpetual motion machine within will not start.
It's actually a little scary.
I have to go to work. Let's move. Come on.
Yeah. I've got nothing.
FUCK.
