Winning at a game I don't want to play

My work self has been looking for a home for so long... Work parents that care about me, and want to help me to succeed? I don't think it's gonna happen.

Was high time I put on my big boy panties and did it myself.

Mission Accomplished: Fat Stacks!

Old company has paid 3 of my invoices so far, one in the mail, one currently populating. My credit card is now paid off.

I'm on frakking fire.

Building infrastructure like it's legos, except those lego structures hold millions of dollars in daily operational sales data, whoa snap!

I bought myself a Samsung 85" Quantum Dot LED TV, and it's glorious. I have a frakking movie screen in my living room. New towels, sheets, pillow cases, KVM switch, super desk incoming.

My new company is so slow. They are paying me to do nothing, and I need to be patient. I have things to keep my mind busy while they figure things out.

Day 67 of 50mg/day. Missing days here and there, almost out. Paranoid that my brain chemistry will frak me up.

I have a visual of a cell, pushing it's pieces out, trying to pierce it's own membrane to get out. The area outside of the membrane is scary, but I don't think it's going to hurt me, as long as I'm careful when/where/how I'm extending. I think the zoloft is strengthening that barrier, and it's breaking down. The membrane no longer serves Me. I no longer have to hold Myself in.

There is no spoon.