It had to happen sometime…just wish it wasn’t now. I’m talking about getting sick. Yeah, the Humira is doing its job–or else this is a convenient coincidence. Right now, I’m expectorating an inordinate amount of mucus at an alarming rate. My nose is raw, I can barely breathe, and I’m coughing almost nonstop. Honestly, I don’t know how my husband can sleep through all of it.
This is a terrible time of year to be sick. I have the Yule garments to finish (all of them are at least started, with one finished, one nearly finished, one halfway finished, and one mostly cut out), Oleanders to stitch, work to do, and more. I. Can’t. Be. Sick. But I am. I’ve got a nasty head cold, and it’s damn frustrating. If I push every afternoon leading up to Yule I can get the sewing done, though, provided I don’t have to wear a freakin’ fracture boot for weeks on end again.
Yeah, the foot’s still hurting. It’s especially worse this morning since I didn’t wear the fracture boot at all yesterday. No, my fool self felt I was good enough to work a half day without the boot and then continue into the evening without it because I had sewing to do. I see the doctor this afternoon, though, thanks to my wonderful boss who is going to cover for me in the surgery department so I can go to my appointment. Otherwise, I would’ve had to wait another week and change to get in.
I’m not gonna lie–even if I am told to wear the boot, I’m going to get the sewing done, one way or the other. Okay, I might lie….to the doctor. Let him think I’m going to have someone else man the sewing machine while I sit and elevate the ol’ footsie. As a wise old woman once said:
Category: Stress
On the outside looking in
I’m so very, very glad that I’m not in charge of anything important right now.
The past several months I have watched as people get frantic, frustrated, and furious over the planning and execution of various events. My conclusion as an outside observer? None for me, thanks. Whole lotta nope.
It’s more than little hiccups. It’s more than speed bumps along the way. It’s a full-on train wreck. Sometimes it’s just that life has different plans, but sometimes it’s…”operator error.” In other words, the cluster stems from human nature. Whether it’s disorganization, miscommunication, or just plain laziness, the humanity factor can really jack even the best laid plans.
I will admit that I don’t know the whole story for all of these things. Like I said, I’m viewing as an outsider. There are behind-the-scenes happenings that I’m not privy to. Still, the little that I do know is enough to turn me off to the notion of taking part in any of this type of responsibility in the future. What kind of nut job voluntarily takes this crap on?
Not this nut job. No siree. Until I see one of these things going smoothly without drama or chaos, I’m going to stay at the sidelines and dodge the cannon fire.
Crunch of a different kind
Anyone who has read this blog for a decent amount of time may be familiar with my recurrent Con Crunch–the time when a convention nears and you’re scrambling to finish your cosplays in time. One could almost say I have chronic Con Crunch, or Triple C. No matter how much I try to plan, I never seem to be able to get my costumes done without a last-minute scramble.
The SCA has proven to be no different. I seem to always be in that Crunchtime zone where I worry that I won’t finish the garment(s) before the event I’m making them for. Prime example: the Italian Renaissance-themed Yule event that’s in less than two weeks. I have my camica done, my outer dress mostly done (still need to hem it and adjust a couple things due to my recent weight loss), and my husband’s pants mostly done. I still need to make his shirt and doublet, though, and–if there’s time–an underskirt for the dress. Since I made mockups of the shirt and doublet, I know it won’t take too terrible long to get them done once I have a chance to just focus, but I have one little problem…
I think my right foot has somehow gotten re-injured. Like, it’s hurting bad enough I worry that it might have become re-broken. Seriously, the only thing that helps for any length of time is to wear the stupid fracture boot that I got from the podiatrist this past February when I first broke it. Here’s a photo of the x-ray for reference:
Yeah, that circled part is the nice little break with the nice little chunk of bone was taken off. According to the podiatrist it was pretty much healed after a few weeks in the boot, and he told me I didn’t really have any restrictions. Cool beans, right?
Well, that “crushing” fracture (as the doctor diagnosed it; to this day I still have no clue how it happened) has been increasingly painful since I decided to wear my medieval period shoes for a couple of days at a recent event. Now, I’ve got gel insoles in them, but they’re not memory foam like my beloved Sketchers–which I ended up changing into for the remainder of the event after the medieval shoes started making my right foot hurt. Or at least that’s what I thought was the cause…now I’m not so sure.
Did I take a wonky step in those shoes and not notice? Knowing me it’s entirely possible, but it’s also possible that there’s something else going on. Something less sucky, perhaps? Regardless, I won’t know until I see the podiatrist again in a couple of weeks. Lucky me didn’t have enough openings at work to be able to get in any sooner. So it’s been over three weeks of moderate to severe pain in my right foot, with another two to go.
Oh, yeah, and I also have trouble controlling the sewing machine pedal with my left foot. So there’s that adding to the already stressful #currentmiddleages crunch. Yeah, no, let’s not use that term again. The alliteration is all well and good, but it feels a bit forced. Costume Crunch? That could work. The garb is essentially medieval costumes, after all.
Fingers crossed that there’s not a bone crunch mixed in with this Costume Crunch. I won’t find out until after the Yule event, so I have to suffer for a little longer.
Speaking of crunches, I suppose I should get cracking on the shirt and/or doublet.
Except this boot is keeping the pain at bay.
Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
Dragging
I’m so tired lately. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones and settles in. Part of it is the chronic insomnia I have, but a lot of it is that I ran out of my Adderall before I could get more and my body is telling me what a fool I was to let that happen.
Still, I have things to do. I’ve got to finish my Italian Renaissance dress, start on my husband’s garb, make Christmas presents, and a whole slew of other things. I’m so tired I can’t even think of what I need to do.
Oh yeah, I remember one thing… I have to work today.
Wallflower disease
I’m a wallflower. Not gonna lie. I enjoy my own company more than just about anyone else. So what’s so wrong with that?
Apparently it’s some kind of condition. Like, one where you need to check on the person constantly to make sure they’re ok.
Let me rewind a bit. Tonight there was a birthday party for a friend at a club. No big deal, right? Well, if you’re not a wallflower I’m sure it’s no big deal. Us petal people, however, sometimes have to make big adjustments to tolerate–or even survive–parties like the one tonight. My go-to coping mechanism is to find a semi-quiet corner and bury my nose in my phone.
I guess some people don’t like seeing that. There appears to be some kind of protective instinct that takes over and makes the non-flowers want to comfort the flowers, who are actually perfectly comfortable sitting alone. Not only did people come to me and ask if I was “okay,” they apparently asked my husband if I was okay as well.
I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with wanting people to have a good time. I’m just saying maybe those people with their noses buried in phones or books or laptops are having a better time than they would be inside the crowd. Maybe those people in the booth corners are having the time of their lives off on their own.
Wallflowerism isn’t contagious, but it’s also not a disease.
Twilight zone
Today marks the official return to “mundane” life after four days of semi-immersion in medieval life (glamping and tennis shoes don’t count as full immersion, right?), and it’s a weird return. I have work, but it’s not my usual work…kind of a light day, in comparison. Then tomorrow I’m off, Wednesday I’m in an office I don’t work at much, and Thursday is another weird work day. Friday should mark the return of normalcy in the office, hectic as it is.
The transition is always an odd time for me. I have been “gone” from my mundane life for only four days, but it truly feels like a different life. I hardly thought about work at all during my off time. My life was guard duty and tournaments and marshaling and setup and tear down. It was nice, I have to admit.
Sadly, work is a necessity in life, and I must go back. I can’t just keep escaping to the current middle ages–especially considering how expensive those current middle ages are. Nope, I have to go back to reality as it were.
Time now ticks away until the Yule feast. I have barely over a month to finish two full Italian Renaissance outfits, and I am woefully behind. Good thing for that off day tomorrow, I guess. I need to get cracking on cutting fabric and pinning and all that good stuff. And finding a pattern for my husband’s garb. And figuring out how to assemble the pieces on my dress.
*Sigh* Off to mundanity now.
Kinda want something to do, kinda don't want to be around people…or do I?
So here’s something about social anxiety that you might not realize: sometimes, we actually want to hang out. We just don’t know how to make ourselves approach people in order to hang out.
One prime example is me today. I had nothing to do, but I wanted to do…. something. I didn’t know what; all the things there were to do involved peopling. Go hang with my husband who was standing guard for the Queen? People. Going to an art class? People. Wandering through the vendor tents? You guessed it: people. So what’s a girl to do?
Well, this girl slept. I took a depression nap because I had nothing to do that didn’t involve being around people who were mostly strangers to me. Not exactly fun.
It’s hard to articulate. I mean, for people who don’t have social anxiety it might seem stupid. But it’s a thing. A real thing. And sometimes it pisses me off. I want to have something to do. I want to hang out. But I don’t. I don’t want to. Fucking frustrating.
It’s like wanting a cookie. But you’re allergic to the nuts in the cookie. Or rather, your brain tells you you’re allergic to the nuts in the cookie. Your brain tells you that if you eat that cookie you’ll fucking die. But hot damn, that cookie looks good.
Right now I’m among close friends, so I’m cool just sitting around. I can handle this. I’ve got to learn how to let myself relax around semi-strangers, though.
I can only take so many naps.
In short….
Damnit. I guess I’m not getting out of writing a synopsis for my novel.
I had felt a rush of relief when the publisher approached me, but it turns out they want to follow protocol. Which is cool, I get it, but did it have to be a synopsis? Ugh.
I guess that’ll be something I work on during my short break today. And after work. And, depending on how frustrated I get with it, tomorrow morning.
Thanks to a Facebook group I’m in (gotta love those Facebook groups) I have a guideline for making the synopsis, but it still terrifies me. I just have this fear that it’s going to be awful. Laughable, even. The same feeling goes for the outline I have to do for the publisher as well. I’m a pantser; I have very little outline before I begin, so I have to basically go through and create a post-outline. A poutline, if you will. Because I am basically pouting like a petulant child over this.
Guess I should just suck it up and get over myself.
Here goes nothing.
Survival mode…deactivated?
I made it through the week! It was touch-and-go there for a while (mentally speaking), but I made it. I even learned a new thing at work. My stress hasn’t completely evaporated–there’s still a slight chance that I might end up with some of the same stress piled back on me next week–but I’m not on Red Alert all the time now. It’s more like Yellow Alert…maybe a bit less.
There are still garments to make for Yule, a whole slew of events to schedule on social media, holiday presents to make for friends and family, and Gods only know what else I’m forgetting at the moment. So yeah, work-stress is lessened, life-stress keeps on trucking.
Overall, though, I think I’m feeling better. I don’t have the panic attack hangover I had yesterday, and I feel pretty calm. Is it a calm-before-the-storm kind of calm? I hope not. But I’ll take the calm feeling while I can.
Beatdown
I’m done. Done. Totally, completely, 1000% done.
Except I’m not. I have more to do, farther to go, deeper to dig. In other words, I’m shit out of luck.
Ok, let me back up a bit.
I’ve been covering for a co-worker who had surgery a week ago, and even though I learned how to do that position a little over a year ago, my training was quick and dirty. Basically, the only backup person for that position quit and I had to step up and dive in. Speed training.
Incomplete speed training.
Yeah. There are huge chunks of aspects of the position that are missing from my knowledge/experience base. Some of the things never came up during that speed training, and despite me pointing this out multiple times it has never been rectified. I literally am the only other person “trained” in this position, and as the past week has demonstrated I am not truly prepared.
I didn’t realize how much stress I was under this past week until this morning. My worsening insomnia, which I had been attributing to just me being me, has most likely been due to this sudden change in work duties. This afternoon, the buildup of stress and strain and pressure came to a head in the form of a massive anxiety attack. During the work day. Full-blown crying-my-eyes-out find-a-place-to-hide-from-reality anxiety attack.
It has been a long, long time since I’ve had an attack that bad while at work. I have to admit, I’m more than a bit ashamed of it. I thought I was past this kind of thing.
Guess not.
Now, work life isn’t my only stressor right now. I have other things going on that are probably not helping matters. Could I cut back on one or more of the non-work activities? Sure. I could. Will I? Probably not too much. Some of my private life things demand a certain degree of responsibility, and some of them involve dear friends who I do not want to disappoint or let down. So I’m going to plow through my off hours just like I’m plowing through the work stress. Will that mean more breakdowns? Probably… but hopefully I can keep any impending meltdowns to times when I can get away and hide my shame.
I’m not sure what I’ll do to destress aside from the date night that my wonderful husband has planned for tomorrow. Work will calm down eventually. I’ll get my personal life sorted to the point where I can function.
I just wish I could fast forward to this stress leveling off.
Soon, though, right? Please?