Update. Feel free to scroll past my whining.
I've been feeling tired lately, and I can't figure out if it's work stress, foot stress (because while it wasn't major surgery, it's a pain in the ass nonetheless), or something more. I get home each night and all I can really think about is how badly I want to crawl into bed and stay there, and every time I think of going in to work, I'm now having awful flashbacks from when I worked at That Other Place and my immediate supervisor was an awful, unpredictable wench. (At least where I work now, no one thumps a Bible in my direction or tells me I'm 'stained by sin' because of my brown hair and brown eyes. You think I'm kidding, don't you?)
Work shenanigans are either no more or on the down-low; my immediate supervisor is... different. (I miss my old one, who was completely hands-off.) I can't decide if her "I'm everyone's friend!" approach is something aimed at keeping me from raising the red flag again or she's just like that, but either way, it doesn't put me at ease, it gives me the willies. I'm sorry, but after the last supervisor I had that pretended to be my friend wound up costing me my job, I just don't trust it. I'd much rather she were standoffish and blunt; I'd at least know exactly where I stand. Coming up to my desk every day, several times a day, to see how I am and chat? Freaks me way the hell out. (Though I don't think the Dalai Lama's "The Art of Happiness - At Work" sitting on my shelf missed her notice - it wasn't there last week, after all.)
Yes, I have trust issues, and you can be damned sure I've earned them.
(In other news, G is my bestest friend evar!!1!1eleventy! and things are going very smoothly on that front. She still drives me batty at times, but... meh. I've learned to work with her - only took 2 years. Nice Guy is staying on his side of the office - came by once and I didn't offer more than one-sentence answers to his attempt at conversation - and while still coming across as a moron as far as his reading comprehension goes, has probably figured out that I hold no fondness for him on even the most platonic levels.)
On the health front, my toes are healing slowly (the right foot didn't need as much work, the left is still an oozy mess) and while I was told I only need the anti-staph ointment for a week, it's been a week and I suspect I really should keep it up over the weekend, along with the iodine-epsom soaks. Ingrown toenails are a BITCH, y'all. Especially when it takes surgery to deal with them. x.x I'm still losing hair at what seems to be a rather alarming rate - seriously, I don't know what will help to slow or stop that, but I've taken to washing my hair every other day because it freaks me out to see so much going down the drain, and then even more on the brush later.
I have been exhausted for three weeks now, and being exhausted makes me upset and cranky, and honestly, I really, really need a break from the world right now.
Ballet 1 is kicking my ass - between the nonexistent posture I have and the fact my adductor muscles are atrophied to nothing, I'm having trouble just standing upright in first position. (Anyone who knows of helpful videos on YouTube that show the positions and how to do them? Linky me, please.) Half the class is made up of students who are taking it for the second-or-more time, too, so just keeping up with the most basic drills is a Herculean task.
Lordee, I'm tired and sore and unhappy this month. And if it really doesn't get better soon, I just don't know what I'm going to do. (Make a doc's appointment, I suppose. This is creeping into depression territory again, slowly - getting near the grey area right now.) I've been on the edge of tears all week for no real reason other than minor frustrations and exhaustion have upset my equilibrium all the way to the red zone. Hell, I'm rather weepy right now just thinking about this, because I feel so frustrated and helpless, and it's all such stupid, small stuff. Little pains in the toes, a need to sleep a little more, so my weight and skin and hair aren't perfect so what, there's drama at work like there is every goddamned day in every office around the world. And yet, here I am, unable to quell the overwhelming need to cry about it, which is in turn not helping me feel any better because now the element of wow-I-suck-at-life-and-coping has been added to the pile.
Work shenanigans are either no more or on the down-low; my immediate supervisor is... different. (I miss my old one, who was completely hands-off.) I can't decide if her "I'm everyone's friend!" approach is something aimed at keeping me from raising the red flag again or she's just like that, but either way, it doesn't put me at ease, it gives me the willies. I'm sorry, but after the last supervisor I had that pretended to be my friend wound up costing me my job, I just don't trust it. I'd much rather she were standoffish and blunt; I'd at least know exactly where I stand. Coming up to my desk every day, several times a day, to see how I am and chat? Freaks me way the hell out. (Though I don't think the Dalai Lama's "The Art of Happiness - At Work" sitting on my shelf missed her notice - it wasn't there last week, after all.)
Yes, I have trust issues, and you can be damned sure I've earned them.
(In other news, G is my bestest friend evar!!1!1eleventy! and things are going very smoothly on that front. She still drives me batty at times, but... meh. I've learned to work with her - only took 2 years. Nice Guy is staying on his side of the office - came by once and I didn't offer more than one-sentence answers to his attempt at conversation - and while still coming across as a moron as far as his reading comprehension goes, has probably figured out that I hold no fondness for him on even the most platonic levels.)
On the health front, my toes are healing slowly (the right foot didn't need as much work, the left is still an oozy mess) and while I was told I only need the anti-staph ointment for a week, it's been a week and I suspect I really should keep it up over the weekend, along with the iodine-epsom soaks. Ingrown toenails are a BITCH, y'all. Especially when it takes surgery to deal with them. x.x I'm still losing hair at what seems to be a rather alarming rate - seriously, I don't know what will help to slow or stop that, but I've taken to washing my hair every other day because it freaks me out to see so much going down the drain, and then even more on the brush later.
I have been exhausted for three weeks now, and being exhausted makes me upset and cranky, and honestly, I really, really need a break from the world right now.
Ballet 1 is kicking my ass - between the nonexistent posture I have and the fact my adductor muscles are atrophied to nothing, I'm having trouble just standing upright in first position. (Anyone who knows of helpful videos on YouTube that show the positions and how to do them? Linky me, please.) Half the class is made up of students who are taking it for the second-or-more time, too, so just keeping up with the most basic drills is a Herculean task.
Lordee, I'm tired and sore and unhappy this month. And if it really doesn't get better soon, I just don't know what I'm going to do. (Make a doc's appointment, I suppose. This is creeping into depression territory again, slowly - getting near the grey area right now.) I've been on the edge of tears all week for no real reason other than minor frustrations and exhaustion have upset my equilibrium all the way to the red zone. Hell, I'm rather weepy right now just thinking about this, because I feel so frustrated and helpless, and it's all such stupid, small stuff. Little pains in the toes, a need to sleep a little more, so my weight and skin and hair aren't perfect so what, there's drama at work like there is every goddamned day in every office around the world. And yet, here I am, unable to quell the overwhelming need to cry about it, which is in turn not helping me feel any better because now the element of wow-I-suck-at-life-and-coping has been added to the pile.