The Rubicon has been crossed!

The wheel of fortune is spinning!

THE VERY FATE OF THE WORLD HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

In other words, I finally ordered a god damned space heater.

A desk model, of course. Not only was that like $20 cheaper than the big fancy one I was contemplating, but I realized that I don’t need to heat a whole room.

I just need to heat a whole me.

And even then, not all the time. And I like that I will be able to point it where it is needed the most, which is my poor numb hands.

Especially the right one. It’s cold all the god damned time.

Like I said before, the circulation in that hand must be truly terrible for it to always feel so cold. I am constantly pausing what I am doing to rub it, or to put my hands under my pants and atop my big fat belly.

Or parts south, but that tends to distract me from what I’m doing.

My video game problem persists. My other character did not have the Inert Stones I need to proceed in the game. I checked some other vendors that I had forgotten before, and they didn’t have them either.

I am tempted to despair and just start playing something else. Or God forbid, start another playthrough and hope I don’t get glitched out.

Assuming it is a glitch. I might still be missing something, and knowing me, it will turn out to be something so gobsmackingly obvious that I will clap my hand onto my forehead and shout, “D’oh!”.

Fine by me if it that’s what it takes to solve the damned problem.

I can’t even keep myself busy doing side-quests because all the quests left on my quest list are either parts of the main quest I can’t access yet or things I haven’t the slightest idea how to pursue and the instructions I find online make no sense.

I’ve realized recently that I have never been very good at following instructions. Doing so requires slow, careful, detail oriented reading that relies on a lot of hidden assumptions and “common sense” interpretations.

And I am good at precisely none of that.

Instead, I try to inhale the information like I normally do, miss important steps, fail to actually assemble a series of logical, methodical steps, rush into action, and end up completely and totally lost.

And then I generally need someone else to come rescue me in one way or another.

It’s a damned good thing I’m cute.

I think this is why I get lost so easily too. I think I know the exact route I should be taking but somehow there is always things I didn’t think of or hidden ambiguities and I end up utterly lost in suburbia somewhere.

Thank God I’ve never been even remotely outdoorsy. At least if I get lost in the ‘burbs I can knock on a random door and ask for help.

Which is when my real skill comes to the fore : being appealingly pathetic.

I don’t know why I lack “common sense”, that mysterious subconscious body of understanding that fills in the very blanks I stumble over.

I feel like my general nervous temperament must play a big part. If I were calmer and more confident, I would stay out of the adrenal state and keep my big brain fully engaged and not get so flustered.

Maybe all us geniuses (genii) are high strung and mentally fragile.

I mean, check out Walter Bishop in this scene :

Maybe all us giant sized brainiac types need reality assistance.

More after the break.

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Walter and Me

The thing that always made me burn with jealousy for Walter from Fringe is that someone noticed and appreciated his genius.

He was marked as a prodigy from a very early age and therefore the school system and all the other adults in his life invested heavily in him.

So he got a private school education, gifted classes. independent study privileges, and everything else that his young mind needed to grow and blossom into the world famous mega-scientist he became as an adult.

And most importantly, he got encouragement. He got praise. He got acknowledged as someone extraordinary and told in no uncertain terms that he had what it took to be someone truly important one day. He got recognition.

Eventually he went insane and spent decades in the looney bin, but that’s not important to my bitter little rant here.

But me, I didn’t get jack shit. I got to be bored out of my gourd, ignored, and deplored. Nobody felt like doing anything to make sure I was challenged or to at least point me towards challenging myself, and so I sleep-walked through school getting straight A’s without extremely little effort and nobody noticing or caring.

It’s not like I made a secret of how easy it all was for me.

A big part of the problem was that I didn’t stick up for myself. All I knew how to do was be a good boy and do what the adults told me to do. I rebelled against my babysitter exactly once as an experiment and never again. My parents were reasonable (if neglectful) and never gave me anything to rebel against.

So the idea of pitching a fit till I got what I wanted never occurred to me, and I wish it had. I know that I could have made my teachers’ lives a living hell if I wanted to, and maybe then I would have gotten some positive attention.

Or at least some respect.

It’s not like being a good boy got me anything but boredom and bullying.

I’m not saying that if they had invested in me instead of just going, “Well, there’s one I don’t have to bother with because they don’t need my help” and forgetting about me, I would be a super scientist right now.

But I sure as fuck wouldn’t be near the bottom of the totem pole either.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.