Finally got Puca sorted enough to get back to being able to do Literally Anything Else, and now Oisín and Bodach are having separation anxiety meltdowns from the stress (extra worrying, given Oisín’s history with stress-related issues). Trying to navigate them all is practically a full-time job on it’s own.
The Twitter kerfuffle remains ongoing and getting worse by the hour. I’m trying to figure out how to manage that, since it’s my primary source of being found, though, to be honest, I haven’t really invested in trying to curate my Tumblr toward dealing with business things. I just don’t use Tumblr that way. Trying to decide if I should adjust how I use my personal account, or set up a secondary one for mirroring here and general shitposting. Mastodon is so screamingly decentralized and siloed and apparently prone to servers just vanishing overnight and having to start over again that it’s just not worth the time investment at the moment. Instagram is so aggressively bound to the Almighty Algorithm that I’m not sure it’s even remotely viable, especially given that it’s been desperately trying to be TikTok instead of Instagram. Facebook, well, if I was going to set up a FB presence, I would have a long time ago. I’m only there because it’s the only way I can keep in touch with a number of folks in my personal life, and when they move on from there, I will cheerfully delete my account and never look back. Not bothering to raise my blood pressure for that.
No, video platforms are not remotely on my radar. I’m probably going to have to figure that out one of these days, the way things are going, but today is not that day. The stuff I do doesn’t exactly lend itself to videos, so it’s not a good use of my limited physical abilities.
I would, however, very much like things to stop exploding for a few days, so that I can actually get shit done. I’ve only got so many spoons to work with, and they keep being eaten before I can get to my business’s To-Do list. Not particularly helpful.
Regardless, the Twitter Debacle is forcing a rethink of how I do things, so I guess that’s good? Maybe not. I have to redo things so often that it’s getting harder to actually do anything long enough to get anywhere. Maybe I’ll just try and make a patchwork quilt of what I can and hope that works well enough.
Ugh. I would give an arm or a leg for a nice, quiet week in nice little seaside cabin somewhere to get out of freefall and refill this bone dry well. (Not one of mine, but somebody’s, anyway. I need mine.) The inside of my skull feels like tv static, and it’s like scraping through rust and gravel to try and get anything creative done.