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Posts by Kate Paulk

The Long Slow Wake-up Call of the Soul

Excuse the pretentious title. It’s just that it’s something approximating the way I feel right now: like I’m very slowly waking up from… well, something.

To be fair, I’m female, have several energy-sapping chronic incurable (managed by medication) conditions, and I’m at that time of life, so things are going to be kind of odd at the best of times (and not the good kind of odd, either).

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Reflections of the Soul

There’s a saying that the things you criticize most in others are your own biggest weaknesses. I’m not sure that’s entirely true, but it’s certainly true that things which bother me most about other people are things I utterly loathe in myself and try not to be.

That said, I’ve spent a great deal of time and effort working out what my motivations and the like actually are so that the narcolepsy-induced depression doesn’t eat me alive (for those not so familiar with the issue, being narcoleptic means that in addition to being constantly sleepy, I never get really good sleep. So I operate in a state more or less approximating coming off an all-nighter – medicated. Without medication it’s more like having been awake 48 hours plus. Chronic sleep deprivation causes depression. Therefore in addition to pure narcolepsy symptoms I get to “enjoy” depression. Go me).

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Blast From the Past: The Good Kind of Othering

It’s late Wednesday night, I’m tired, and eagerly awaiting the vacation I start in just over a week’s time. I’m also as scatterbrained as hell and have been for most of the year. So, have a blast from the past.

The Good Kind of Othering

In an attempt to stay well away from the toxic soup of political matters, I’ve spent a lot of time this past week doing Other Stuff. This, I promise you, is a Good Thing, because my snark-o-matic was maxed out and the uber-cynical button stuck in the ‘on’ position.

While I’m quite sure there are those who enjoyed the results, it’s tiring and kind of draining when it lasts long enough: I’m the kind of extreme introvert who needs plenty of down time to recover from bouts of mega-snark.

Which means that I really, really shouldn’t go near the rather sad rant of a certain award-winning author who managed to let slip that she knows she’s a token winner but still thinks that’s okay because those who disagree are ___ist. Read more

Catching Bombs

On the day job – as a software tester – we refer to those derailing incidents that leave what you’d planned to do in ashes as “bombs”. Possibly because they bomb your plans and schedule to hell and gone.

I’ve been juggling the bloody things for way too long.

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Some good news

The Bugger-cat had an oncology appointment on Tuesday, and he’s gained a whole pound since the last one. This is very good news: he’s gone from six pounds to seven – he’s still very underweight since his height and length are about the same as Her Royal Highness Princess Buttercup who weighs in at 16 lb (and is rather more substantial than she should be but there’s no way we’re up for putting one cat on a diet while trying to get the other one to eat more).

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The Giving of Thanks

When this post goes live it will be Thanksgiving Day in the USA. There’s a bunch of traditions around the day, many of them involving eating oneself into a food coma – which, for this particular holiday is a legitimate thing – and the one I find most important, the notion of giving thanks for the good things in one’s life.

Obviously, this is something that shouldn’t be limited to a single day, but having a day specifically devoted to giving thanks is a good thing. The Thanksgiving mythos – starving settlers spared by friendly local tribes and having a big harvest feast together in friendship and of course said settlers being exceedingly thankful for the help – may or may not accurately reflect what actually happened back then, but it’s a good myth to have.

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I have returned

I have survived the trials of shitty hotel wifi more or less unscathed, and had a wonderful time at the test conference. I’m also kicking myself a bit, since said conference was in San Francisco, on the harbor, and Thursday morning was picture-postcard perfect.

Alas, I did not think to take any photos, and by mid-afternoon smoke had started to roll in from the wildfires in the valley. Friday was so hazy that the organizers were recommending that people not go outside unless they absolutely had to, and providing masks for anyone who did go outside.

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