a particular process of tiredness for a certain person.

friday, september 21, 2012

10:30pm

the tired phases of beka marie:

1. someone asks me how i am, and i tell them in weird metaphors.
take, for instance, this texted conversation of mine with justin:

him: how are you, my love?
me: i....i feel exhaustified. like a jellyfish in a pot of hot water after being a beluga whale swimming around the ocean all day.
weird metaphors are a DEFINITE sign of my tiredness. i'm not quite coherent.
but hey, i didn't have any typos. i'm not quite that tired yet i guess. :P
...ahem...this is what you get to look forward to living with. lol.

his reply was sweet, nonetheless. undeniably so. 

undeservedly so. ♥

2. laziness.
then i gather my energies from stray corners of my mind [yes, it is square...er, something like that. of course.]
and something amazing happens.
:)

3. frustration. edging towards choice words.
i was boxing this bugger lovely canvas up, and because it's been a while since i've sold a larger canvas like this, i had forgotten exactly how easily frustrating it can be to make a custom box for it.
because there are no boxes in the size and shape of exactly what i need....i have to cut down huge boxes and tape it around the canvas and its bubble wrap, etcetera.
well.....tonight, it was uber frustrating.
i have decided --in the heat of the moment, of course; because that is the best time to make decisions that effect other people, hahaha!-- that i am going to hike the price for my remaining large canvases because they cause me so much stress and it takes so bloody long [more than half hour] to wrestle the box into the exact freaking shape and size i need it, not to mention taping it all securely and it ending up slightly decently attractive too. :P that last part doesn't happen. i just make sure the canvas will get there safely.
i was about to pull my hair out when the one side of the box came untaped for the 2nd or 3rd time of my trying so hard to get it to cooperate. [i love painting. any size canvas. but shipping it? and prepping it for that? oh my word. no.]
mom just looked over at me from her sewing machine and smiled sympathetically. "just do it one thing at a time."
"i am doing it one side at a time!" gritted teeth. "but it's not working." urgh.
yes. frustration. my companion of the night.
i am so done with these huge canvases. i mean, it's not even that big!! but i am definitely charging more for any big ones like this.
[mom looked over and laughed when she heard my fingers clicking away quite fiercely on the keyboard, typing this post. and i nearly let that "post" be spelled "poast". i have reached the final stage.]

4. typos. they finally happen. sentences start to get flipped around. words get letters added to them like they mean something else. or absolutely nothing at all.
dear God, i need sleep.


sigh.
i have forgotten how therapeutic blogging is.

ciao.