Ohai.
So. A few changes.
I've been diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease. It's an autoimmune thyroid thing. Go look it up if you want, but be warned: wikipedia & webmd do not the whole picture paint.
I had to take an extended unpaid leave of absence from work to try to get better. They let me take it because I could prove it was a medical problem, but I couldn't get disability. Enter that 6-month emergency fund that people say you should have. Now skip ahead about 9 months and add a bunch of doctor bills that insurance won't cover: I'm still not better. Now for the pièce de résistance: my parents are selling the house and moving back to Mississippi. I can't work, can't afford to keep my apartment. Finally I grit my teeth and quit my job.
That was about a week ago. We're moving in a few weeks- both the house and my apartment. Mom is having minor, outpatient knee surgery in the morning. I'm supposed to be packing up my apartment, but so far all I've done is straighten up, and precious little of that.
There are a few good points. I've lost about 50 lbs, and I've almost quit smoking. The new place is lovely and peaceful and may very well do wonders for my health. I've become a fairly serious crocheter, to the point where I fantasize about having the energy to go to fiber festivals and become a designer and actually make a living at it.
But most of the time, I'm exhausted and stressed out and really would just rather be left alone with my yarn and my hooks. I'm mostly on Twitter these days, but I follow a lot of crochet bigshots (shut up) over there and I'm finding that my state of mind is not always apt to produce tweets that are most likely to recommend me. I speak primarily of the whiny bitchiness that has garnered me such acclaim in the masochistic insomniac community.
So I remembered LJ, and decided I would come vent my spleen here when needed. Which, unfortunately, may be quite a lot in the coming weeks. Sorry about that. :/
Posted via Journaler.
I've been diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease. It's an autoimmune thyroid thing. Go look it up if you want, but be warned: wikipedia & webmd do not the whole picture paint.
I had to take an extended unpaid leave of absence from work to try to get better. They let me take it because I could prove it was a medical problem, but I couldn't get disability. Enter that 6-month emergency fund that people say you should have. Now skip ahead about 9 months and add a bunch of doctor bills that insurance won't cover: I'm still not better. Now for the pièce de résistance: my parents are selling the house and moving back to Mississippi. I can't work, can't afford to keep my apartment. Finally I grit my teeth and quit my job.
That was about a week ago. We're moving in a few weeks- both the house and my apartment. Mom is having minor, outpatient knee surgery in the morning. I'm supposed to be packing up my apartment, but so far all I've done is straighten up, and precious little of that.
There are a few good points. I've lost about 50 lbs, and I've almost quit smoking. The new place is lovely and peaceful and may very well do wonders for my health. I've become a fairly serious crocheter, to the point where I fantasize about having the energy to go to fiber festivals and become a designer and actually make a living at it.
But most of the time, I'm exhausted and stressed out and really would just rather be left alone with my yarn and my hooks. I'm mostly on Twitter these days, but I follow a lot of crochet bigshots (shut up) over there and I'm finding that my state of mind is not always apt to produce tweets that are most likely to recommend me. I speak primarily of the whiny bitchiness that has garnered me such acclaim in the masochistic insomniac community.
So I remembered LJ, and decided I would come vent my spleen here when needed. Which, unfortunately, may be quite a lot in the coming weeks. Sorry about that. :/
Posted via Journaler.