As a person pretending to be a writer and a total geek for the entertainment industry to boot, I am mostly for the writers’ strike. I don’t really know what it’s about, but people getting paid fairly for the work they do is something I’m generally all about. But if this strike means I can’t have any more Bones…fuck you, writers’ strike. Fuck you to death.
I went to a thingie this morning on how to deal with stress. All it actually did was make me very aware of all the stress I am currently under, and how I’m not doing anything to deal with it. I got a little “Biodot,” which is like a moodring in sticker form, so I’ve been monitoring my movements between “alert” and “stressed out of your mind, go take a nap.” Apparently I should be taking a few minutes out of every day to relax, focusing on my tasks and doing them right away instead of procrastinating, and other junk I already know. I find it hard to force relaxation at anytime; more so when I’m so caffeinated I’m practically vibrating. I find it much easier to go into a manic-frenzy of work, Christmas shopping, and grad school junk before collapsing in a pool of braindeadness in front of my television. And then the television takes away my one show…just thinking about it is making my Biodot “anxious.”