I was seriously tempted to label the week just past the Worst Week Ever, but then I realized that I should probably save that label for a week when actual bad things happen instead of just too little sleep and several annoying incidents and lots of emotional turmoil. I will say this, though: it takes quite a bit to make me snap at people, but I did it this Friday. Thrice. One person I snapped at twice, and he deserved it for not doing the job he knew he was supposed to do and thereby making my job harder. He knew that he deserved it, both times, and he apologized and all was well. The other person... well, I think he's scared of me now. He was new, and I snapped at him for an institutional problem over which he had no power, so I feel bad about that. Sorry, person.
Fortunately, there are weekends in which I can catch up on my sleep.
One of my first friends in Gone West left today. She moved to Other PNW City. We went over to her apartment early this morning to pack up the U-Haul, and she was astonishingly ready. I don't think I've ever moved someone who was quite that prepared. Everything was packed and organized and five of us carried everything out to the truck in an hour flat. Including coffee breaks. There was none of that familiar throwing of the clothes still on the hangers on top of everything else. There was none of that familiar tossing of last minute items into laundry baskets.
After everything was in the truck, we stood around talking, the four of us who first met in the bar study class, and I wondered if I will be the next to move. Which is more important to me, I keep asking myself, the type of job or the location of the job? I am beginning to think that the type of job is more important than the location.
I'm not going to lie: the fact that this city is trying to kill me via allergies might have something to do with my sudden willingness to move. I am now using eye drops twice a day, the neti pot twice a day, a nasal spray once a day, zyrtec (okay, wal-zyr) once a day, real sud@fed as needed if I can stand it, and excessive quantities of ibuprofen in between. It's ridiculous. I actually have to set my alarm earlier to deal with the allergy-prevention regimen. And it's not helping. I still have the headaches and the total exhaustion. It gets a little better when the sun stays out, though, leading me to my newest conclusion: my problem is not the pollen, it's the mold. To get away from it, I'm going to have to get away from the rain. I knew there was a logical reason why I love the sunshine so excessively much. Suddenly the far side of the mountains doesn't look so bad, even with the snow and lack of big cities.
Real sud@fed, by the way, is incredibly (this is not going to surprise anyone) drying. Um, yes, that would be the point. It is so drying that it makes me cough, painfully. It does help with my allergies, but I can hardly ever stand to take it. I seriously do not understand people who do meth, if meth maintains the drying properties of sud@fed. (It does, right? That's why methy people get the little sores, from dry skin? And the bad teeth, from dry mouth? Since I started the job I do now, I have become very good at recognizing the methy people. I see so many of them.)
Now I am going to bed, to sleep some more, even though I took a nap after coming back from the moving. I have to be rested for the World Cup final tomorrow. My people are playing.
Go Orange!
Fortunately, there are weekends in which I can catch up on my sleep.
One of my first friends in Gone West left today. She moved to Other PNW City. We went over to her apartment early this morning to pack up the U-Haul, and she was astonishingly ready. I don't think I've ever moved someone who was quite that prepared. Everything was packed and organized and five of us carried everything out to the truck in an hour flat. Including coffee breaks. There was none of that familiar throwing of the clothes still on the hangers on top of everything else. There was none of that familiar tossing of last minute items into laundry baskets.
After everything was in the truck, we stood around talking, the four of us who first met in the bar study class, and I wondered if I will be the next to move. Which is more important to me, I keep asking myself, the type of job or the location of the job? I am beginning to think that the type of job is more important than the location.
I'm not going to lie: the fact that this city is trying to kill me via allergies might have something to do with my sudden willingness to move. I am now using eye drops twice a day, the neti pot twice a day, a nasal spray once a day, zyrtec (okay, wal-zyr) once a day, real sud@fed as needed if I can stand it, and excessive quantities of ibuprofen in between. It's ridiculous. I actually have to set my alarm earlier to deal with the allergy-prevention regimen. And it's not helping. I still have the headaches and the total exhaustion. It gets a little better when the sun stays out, though, leading me to my newest conclusion: my problem is not the pollen, it's the mold. To get away from it, I'm going to have to get away from the rain. I knew there was a logical reason why I love the sunshine so excessively much. Suddenly the far side of the mountains doesn't look so bad, even with the snow and lack of big cities.
Real sud@fed, by the way, is incredibly (this is not going to surprise anyone) drying. Um, yes, that would be the point. It is so drying that it makes me cough, painfully. It does help with my allergies, but I can hardly ever stand to take it. I seriously do not understand people who do meth, if meth maintains the drying properties of sud@fed. (It does, right? That's why methy people get the little sores, from dry skin? And the bad teeth, from dry mouth? Since I started the job I do now, I have become very good at recognizing the methy people. I see so many of them.)
Now I am going to bed, to sleep some more, even though I took a nap after coming back from the moving. I have to be rested for the World Cup final tomorrow. My people are playing.
Go Orange!
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