adventures!
Today was... drastically unplanned. Actually, that is the story of the last two days, really, I think -- last night I had to choose (with a gross amount of emotion that I hope I can ascribe to spiritual exhaustion + lack of meds) between going to a mall in another town with my mother and sister, going to my weekly coffeeshop open mic night, or taking the only chance I had to see the community theatre's production of Into the Woods (Hannah was in it and I promised to go!; also, I heart our community theatre). I chose the theatre and I am pretty glad I did, especially as it meant I didn't have to socialise very much -- I am so worn out from work that people are making my skin crawl most of the time. Not their fault! I am just... not good at dealing with them right now. Also plays are always lovely (well, I mean, in theory; there are many bad plays in the world; and o! how I long to be in a proper city where I can go see proper plays instead of watching people talk about them and being sad that I can't join in their enjoyment! the idea that one can reinterpret the same story over and over and over THRILLS ME TO THE BONES, okay; I want to see multiple versions of plays and see what the actors can make me think about the characters THAT IS ENDLESSLY DELICIOUS TO ME). Also also I got to dress up -- fab twenty-nine cent black dress with handkerchief hem I'd never had a chance to wear, my favourite black bodice, little fur collar, ribbed stockings, glorious velvet and ribbon red heels, houndstooth cape, Halloween-store clearance bowler nobody knew wasn't proper. I miss heels.
Ended up bicycling madly through the rain after buying my ticket in fancy dress, heels, bowler, and cape, because I wanted to get Hannah a muffin. (It was her birthday the other day and nearly the end of her show, and I can't afford roses! Anyway muffins are better.) This was unplanned and I found it completely hilarious after the fact, because: of course that happened. OF COURSE. Anyway, exchanged muffin for hugs and good conversation while kicking our legs on the edge of the stage. Huzzah!
Came home, sat about in finery with candles burning and a glass of wine, felt delightfully ridiculous.
(Also before that and directly after work I went to the mall and picked up a lot of job applications. And socks, the bowler, and earrings. So.)
--
Then! woke up this morning to find that… I couldn’t walk. Uh. Last night I remember my left foot felt a little strained, but I didn’t think much of it. Woke up, tried to get out of bed, muscle in foot so strained I couldn't put weight on it. Could sort of lurch about the house with a great deal of shouting and grunting, if I am stubborn about it (and we know I am). Called in sick to work after trying to make my foot better for half an hour, only to discover that I cannot just call in sick. I have to call everybody else who works at the Garden Bar and get one of them to take my shift(s), and it was kind of horrible. (This seems like a terrible policy. What if I were rushed to the hospital this morning? The only other time I’ve ever called in sick to work - three years ago - was when I felt ill, tried to get up and get dressed for work anyway, and blacked out and woke on the other side of the room covered in bruises. So. Being sick is not always conducive to making multiple phone calls!)
Only two other people work the Garden Bar, and one of them couldn’t take my shifts. (I was meant to have two today.) The other said he could, but then the manager told me he was already scheduled to work something else this evening, so I needed to wrangle it out with a different manager. (I DON’T SEE WHAT I CAN DO HERE FROM MY POSITION OF BEING UNABLE TO WALK, GUYS.) Basically: it was stressful and horrible and I almost wanted to throw up from stress and guilt. (Was informed by parents I didn't need to feel guilty, which is true; it's not my fault I can't work, and I'd be no use to them lurching about spilling salad everywhere and yelping. But guilt is always my default reaction and I had to inconvenience a lot of people!)
Also to make up to the fellow who’s filling in for me I am taking his evening shift on Monday. Which was my day off. It’s fair, and I know it’s fair, but it still hurts a little. (It’s my… least least favourite shift, and today is now a day off, so I still get one -- but still. I wanted to go to the graveyard and read, or something -- and o, how necessary was today's accidental holiday, I know, and I'm kind of looking up at God going, this is the wackiest and awkward-angledest blessing in disguise I've had in a while but THANK YOU, I AM VERY GRATEFUL, but not having Monday any more is a bit of a blow, stupid as it sounds. (It's only a three hour shift! BUT I DON'T KNOW WHEN I GET A DAY OFF AGAIN YET.)
Anyway, swallowed guilt and bad feeling HARD, painted nails a glorious dark green, and swathed myself in my favourite over-sized knit sweater (bulky sweaters do not usually flatter curvy girls like me in that shabby chic sort of way but THIS ONE IS MAGIC and makes me feel like an English country gentleman who sometimes likes to shoot things), and then was helped along in the EXORCISE FEELINGS OF PANIC motion by Dad initiating a beer tasting of very many autumnal beers (three Octoberfests, two pumpkin ales) whilst watching a concert of one of his favourite bands back in the seventies (Gentle Giant; delightfully eclectic English probably-categorised-as-rock with occasional cello and violin and vibraphone and influences ranging from ancient tradfolk and classical/baroque to reggae and punk; also adorable burly v. English working class lead singer with a mass of curls and a lovely beard and a very earnest voice). Have otherwise spent much of day curled up with book -- HAVE ALMOST FORGOT HOW TO READ OF LATE -- with a hasty rush to the library before it closed (in car; could limp through library but not three blocks to it), where none of my loans had come in but two books on my to-read list turned up in the new arrivals list and were so newly arrived they weren't shelved yet so are on reserve for me when they're ready. (Our YA section is the only bit of the library that's really thriving. As this is my section of most feeling, I am glad about this, but sometimes I wish we could direct little more attention to the adult fantasy section, which is really dreary and mostly painfully basic pulp by white men, BLAH. Also as much as I love high fantasy I'm very picky about it and we have almost nothing else on the shelves. There's so much going on in fantasy right now, library! GET ON IT. Anyway we are getting a startling amount of excellent and sometimes obscure-ish YA -- along with the usual fury-making rot -- so I have that to be grateful and pleased about.)
Tomorrow I've got to work my almost-least favourite shift -- closing is bad, and one of the reasons I most want to quit, but at least it is Sunday, when we close at ten and I get out at elevenish, and not Saturday, when we close at midnight and I get out at one am. Also work twice the amount of hours as usual in a single shift, without a break. Humbug. At least picked-up shift on Monday does not start till five in the evening. And I finally get to see a doctor on Tuesday; must somehow keep my brain on straight till then. (HA HA not trying to be defeatist but am not optimistic about tomorrow night. Have not had a single closing shift yet that did not end with me sobbing hysterically with stress the minute I got away from my co-workers, despite telling myself every time that I have done this before and it has to get easier at some point. (Spoiler: NOT YET, APPARENTLY). Ugh. Will plead with Dad to save me an Octoberfest.)
Foot is feeling moderately better fourteen hours later; shall probably still be limping tomorrow but can walk, I hope. Also spent some quality desk-dancing time with Florence + the Machine, who has graciously condescended to make an album that is secretly all about my Marwick Trilogy; how dear of her. (Mostly about. Have discovered "No Light, No Light" is a) giving me Mal/Lottie feelings, b) WILL MAKE ME THRASH AROUND BECAUSE IT IS SUCH A DELIGHTFULLY LOUD SHOUTY SONG, and also there is "Seven Devils" which O PERFECTION IN EVERY WAY COULD YOU CATER TO ME MORE BLATANTLY, and "Shake It Out" -- the videoooo; I had such a SITUATION over it STOP PRYING INTO MY STORYBRAIN, FLO except don't. And the songs that aren't about have such perfectly attuned aesthetic that they can stay anyway. How do I love the epic choral vibe of this album, let me count the ways!)
Should go to bed. By which I mean "read or fill out a job application". Goodnight, loveliests!
Ended up bicycling madly through the rain after buying my ticket in fancy dress, heels, bowler, and cape, because I wanted to get Hannah a muffin. (It was her birthday the other day and nearly the end of her show, and I can't afford roses! Anyway muffins are better.) This was unplanned and I found it completely hilarious after the fact, because: of course that happened. OF COURSE. Anyway, exchanged muffin for hugs and good conversation while kicking our legs on the edge of the stage. Huzzah!
Came home, sat about in finery with candles burning and a glass of wine, felt delightfully ridiculous.
(Also before that and directly after work I went to the mall and picked up a lot of job applications. And socks, the bowler, and earrings. So.)
--
Then! woke up this morning to find that… I couldn’t walk. Uh. Last night I remember my left foot felt a little strained, but I didn’t think much of it. Woke up, tried to get out of bed, muscle in foot so strained I couldn't put weight on it. Could sort of lurch about the house with a great deal of shouting and grunting, if I am stubborn about it (and we know I am). Called in sick to work after trying to make my foot better for half an hour, only to discover that I cannot just call in sick. I have to call everybody else who works at the Garden Bar and get one of them to take my shift(s), and it was kind of horrible. (This seems like a terrible policy. What if I were rushed to the hospital this morning? The only other time I’ve ever called in sick to work - three years ago - was when I felt ill, tried to get up and get dressed for work anyway, and blacked out and woke on the other side of the room covered in bruises. So. Being sick is not always conducive to making multiple phone calls!)
Only two other people work the Garden Bar, and one of them couldn’t take my shifts. (I was meant to have two today.) The other said he could, but then the manager told me he was already scheduled to work something else this evening, so I needed to wrangle it out with a different manager. (I DON’T SEE WHAT I CAN DO HERE FROM MY POSITION OF BEING UNABLE TO WALK, GUYS.) Basically: it was stressful and horrible and I almost wanted to throw up from stress and guilt. (Was informed by parents I didn't need to feel guilty, which is true; it's not my fault I can't work, and I'd be no use to them lurching about spilling salad everywhere and yelping. But guilt is always my default reaction and I had to inconvenience a lot of people!)
Also to make up to the fellow who’s filling in for me I am taking his evening shift on Monday. Which was my day off. It’s fair, and I know it’s fair, but it still hurts a little. (It’s my… least least favourite shift, and today is now a day off, so I still get one -- but still. I wanted to go to the graveyard and read, or something -- and o, how necessary was today's accidental holiday, I know, and I'm kind of looking up at God going, this is the wackiest and awkward-angledest blessing in disguise I've had in a while but THANK YOU, I AM VERY GRATEFUL, but not having Monday any more is a bit of a blow, stupid as it sounds. (It's only a three hour shift! BUT I DON'T KNOW WHEN I GET A DAY OFF AGAIN YET.)
Anyway, swallowed guilt and bad feeling HARD, painted nails a glorious dark green, and swathed myself in my favourite over-sized knit sweater (bulky sweaters do not usually flatter curvy girls like me in that shabby chic sort of way but THIS ONE IS MAGIC and makes me feel like an English country gentleman who sometimes likes to shoot things), and then was helped along in the EXORCISE FEELINGS OF PANIC motion by Dad initiating a beer tasting of very many autumnal beers (three Octoberfests, two pumpkin ales) whilst watching a concert of one of his favourite bands back in the seventies (Gentle Giant; delightfully eclectic English probably-categorised-as-rock with occasional cello and violin and vibraphone and influences ranging from ancient tradfolk and classical/baroque to reggae and punk; also adorable burly v. English working class lead singer with a mass of curls and a lovely beard and a very earnest voice). Have otherwise spent much of day curled up with book -- HAVE ALMOST FORGOT HOW TO READ OF LATE -- with a hasty rush to the library before it closed (in car; could limp through library but not three blocks to it), where none of my loans had come in but two books on my to-read list turned up in the new arrivals list and were so newly arrived they weren't shelved yet so are on reserve for me when they're ready. (Our YA section is the only bit of the library that's really thriving. As this is my section of most feeling, I am glad about this, but sometimes I wish we could direct little more attention to the adult fantasy section, which is really dreary and mostly painfully basic pulp by white men, BLAH. Also as much as I love high fantasy I'm very picky about it and we have almost nothing else on the shelves. There's so much going on in fantasy right now, library! GET ON IT. Anyway we are getting a startling amount of excellent and sometimes obscure-ish YA -- along with the usual fury-making rot -- so I have that to be grateful and pleased about.)
Tomorrow I've got to work my almost-least favourite shift -- closing is bad, and one of the reasons I most want to quit, but at least it is Sunday, when we close at ten and I get out at elevenish, and not Saturday, when we close at midnight and I get out at one am. Also work twice the amount of hours as usual in a single shift, without a break. Humbug. At least picked-up shift on Monday does not start till five in the evening. And I finally get to see a doctor on Tuesday; must somehow keep my brain on straight till then. (HA HA not trying to be defeatist but am not optimistic about tomorrow night. Have not had a single closing shift yet that did not end with me sobbing hysterically with stress the minute I got away from my co-workers, despite telling myself every time that I have done this before and it has to get easier at some point. (Spoiler: NOT YET, APPARENTLY). Ugh. Will plead with Dad to save me an Octoberfest.)
Foot is feeling moderately better fourteen hours later; shall probably still be limping tomorrow but can walk, I hope. Also spent some quality desk-dancing time with Florence + the Machine, who has graciously condescended to make an album that is secretly all about my Marwick Trilogy; how dear of her. (Mostly about. Have discovered "No Light, No Light" is a) giving me Mal/Lottie feelings, b) WILL MAKE ME THRASH AROUND BECAUSE IT IS SUCH A DELIGHTFULLY LOUD SHOUTY SONG, and also there is "Seven Devils" which O PERFECTION IN EVERY WAY COULD YOU CATER TO ME MORE BLATANTLY, and "Shake It Out" -- the videoooo; I had such a SITUATION over it STOP PRYING INTO MY STORYBRAIN, FLO except don't. And the songs that aren't about have such perfectly attuned aesthetic that they can stay anyway. How do I love the epic choral vibe of this album, let me count the ways!)
Should go to bed. By which I mean "read or fill out a job application". Goodnight, loveliests!