Compressed and Distressed

I know that writing here like this is wasted words, considering that it is NaNoWriMo now. But I suppose it is nice to write something not relating to work nor my NaNoWriMo entry ever so often.

The end of the year is fast coming upon us. Even as I write, we are already passed the first week (i.e. seven days) of the month, and by the end of this week, the first third would have been gone. And then December will arrive, and 2023 will begin it all anew again.

This upcoming season is much more compressed than usual. Work-wise, things are heating up in strange ways. We are trying to hire, so interview season is in. Some other stuff is also increasing in activity as folks are in a rush to expend the tranch of funding, and it impacts me through the quasi-official support of a tool that these folks use.

Then there's the actual holiday season. Christmas, New Year, and Chinese New Year are all happening within a tight 33-day window. Not to mention the loss of my birthday throughout the messed mass of holidays---perhaps it is the first (and only?) year that I ``age'' only twice in one year as opposed to thrice?

Perhaps that's why I am in some form of distress, and it does show. My skin's getting worse, obviously. I find myself scraping away at various parts of my skin almost compulsively to the point of breaking skin and what-not.

It's terrible.

With shit skin and even shittier coping mechanisms like that, the last thing I feel is that of being desirable, let alone to be desired. Perhaps at the end of the day, this is truly what will make me decide to commit towards a no-spouse route, as opposed to ``only'' a no-children route. Ain't wanna be in a relationship to be ``taken care of'' by someone else.

Also, it isn't easy to be ``loved'' by someone with such shitty skin. As they say, those who look attractive win at life, and those who don't need to make do with wealth or power. And since I have little of the two, it's better to just live through this life quietly and then move on.

A rant? A cry for help? You decide; or not---it matters little.

Till the next update.