Today has been one of those days that fill you with enough frustration that you begin to wonder if you should have ever come down from the cold void between the stars in the first place. The limitations of this insensitive and cruel world with its boring euclidean geometry and persistent flow of time just really got to me today and it killed my motivation.
I came into Starbucks this morning ready to really tackle a chapter about Lady Eloise and the rose competition, but the world must have decided it had other plans. First Arissa wasn’t working this morning. Now, I’m not the kind of Great Old One who likes to come into a coffee shop just because of the cute barista- I’m an Elder God feminist after all! No, the problem is that Thomas, who was the new barista (baristo?) working the register, had never seen me before. So not only did he not know my regular drink- and what is the point of patronizing a particular establishment if they can’t even remember your regular order?- but I also had to deal with him being driven insane after gazing upon my visage.
Can I take a moment here to talk about privilege? I mean, yeah I get that I had certain advantages growing up as a timeless entity with nigh-omnipotence my own city. I grant that. But let’s not ignore the fact that everyone else can just wander around willy-nilly without having to worry about service personnel having mental breakdowns the first time you try and order a coffee and danish. I had to work pretty hard to not get eaten by Azathoth- that idiot Chaos at the heart of the universe- and to fill the stars with my spawn. Anyway, rant over; just try and realize that Elder Gods have challenges in life too.
So, the manager (Erik, a pretty decent guy so far as humans go) has to come out and take Thomas into the back and bring him out of his comatose state (He’s fine, so don’t worry about him). Then Erik kind of calmed me down and got me my usual ordered which, ok, fine, but I think it would have been the natural thing for him to at least comp me my drink for the trouble! At least Erik knows how to spell my name right, but that didn’t stop the barista who made my drink from pronouncing it all wrong. How hard is it to pronounce Cthulhu? I swear Stephanie (the drink-making barista) is doing it on purpose at this point because she’s said it at least seven different ways- “Kit-loo”, “Cuth-a-hoo”, “Kaloo-Kaloo”. Ftagn! Stephanie, it’s getting old. I had to learn how to pronounce your names; names that are not remotely appropriate for a proper mouth formed from tentacles and a beak.
After that, I tried to get situated, still completely intent on working on that chapter from “Dreams of R’lyeh”. I know that I’ve described “Dreams” as a novel once or twice, but that’s not really accurate. It’s really going to be something entirely new both structurally and content-wise. I mean, I think it ‘s going to make a lot of people who have been ignoring my writing really sit up and take notice. There’s some Moorcocke and some Peake in it but also a lot of stuff that harkens back to Dickens but without making the same mistakes he usually fell into. But I just couldn’t get past the thing with Thomas. It didn’t help that they wheeled his gurney out right in front of me! That really just seemed rude; it would have been just as easy to take him out through the alley in back. After that a lot of customers kept giving me funny looks. Human faces can be hard for me to read, but I’m pretty sure they were trying to express their sympathy toward me. I appreciated that, but I still couldn’t get into the right frame of mind to work on “Dreams” and gave up around lunch.
I know you were all hoping that I was making better progress on “Dreams of R’lyeh” and I swear by the infinite and uncaring void that your insignificant speck of a world floats in that I am giving it my all! Hopefully Arissa is back working tomorrow; if so I really think I can get that Eloise chapter hammered out!
Also, how good is Orange is the New Black? I watched the entire second season this afternoon. Awesome stuff.