Yay, Defcon 2
Nov. 15th, 2014 20:47![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquill[formerly filtered to c]
Transitions are always uncomfortable. There's no way around that, and I knew I was headed into this when I started. Until I've sorted most of it out, my head's going to be full of sandpaper. That makes me irritable, and unable to focus, and I end up with many of the symptoms of depression (namely apathy, lethargy, bad sleep, a dark outlook, and occasional breakdowns). I'm not really functional, which is frustrating... but it can't really be helped. It's just the nature of the game.
My patience is rather thin. I really have to deal with the committee picking out varieties for the Master Gardeners tomato sale next spring, but I got such a bad taste in my mouth at the last meeting that I keep avoiding the issue, even via email. I basically got stomped on, in all of the self-worth spots that are currently raw because they're under construction, and I am not feeling particularly charitable toward the people responsible. The easiest way to avoid raising my blood pressure (and possibly letting loose the hounds of snark, half-accidentally) is to avoid contact... but my input really is needed on this, or else they'll screw up even worse than last year, and I'll be dealing with the consequences in April when my forehead is sore from hitting my desk with it.
Maybe I can try to nail down exactly how many ways my two fellow committee members pissed me off, toss those issues in a jar for later, politely respond, and come up with some resolution to my aggravations between now and when things get underway in January. It might work.
Things are so different here. It feels like I've lost my taste for most of the things I liked around this house, and all that's left is the work and the responsibilities... Come to think of it, I can't come up with anything I really had been looking forward to, other than the relief of getting some of these chores off my back. Tuesday nights, probably, as much work as those often are. Well, and I still enjoy cooking, so that's something. But everything sort of loses its appeal when it's all underlaid by a persistent ache which doesn't go away. I remember that from my days of chronic physical pain. Add in the rest of the malaise and it's not surprising I'd rather just avoid my life for a while.
My shoulders are an utter mess, despite everyone's best efforts, and the combination of aches and pinched nerves isn't helping either. I should leave a note on Dr. J's answering machine.
Oh, yay. Looking over my entry, I guess I've reached the anger phase. I'm going to be a lot of fun for everyone until that passes over (and I guess the coffee I bought for comfort food will have to wait, as decaf still has enough caffeine to amplify my irritability). Maybe I should plead insanity and call off Tuesday, since I'm unlikely to be in any fit state to be around people by then. Heaven help Wayne tomorrow if he's off his game... at least he won't hold it against me if I slip and say something unkind.
Time to find a Project. Something I can attack and pour my frustrations into until the dust clears and I can at least say I've done something. Something with plenty of distractions but enough time spent on routine stuff to let the back of my brain try to clear the backlog. I have a couple of ideas -- but nothing which involves my dad. I think my fuse is a bit too short to work with anybody, especially him.
At least my cat is happy I'm here... she plastered herself to me as soon as I came upstairs, and has been purring blissfully ever since.
I should write something documenting the major and minor headspace shifts I had over the last 30 hours, but that doesn't feel like it's going to happen right here. I'll try to give it a shot later. I'm just too pissed at everything to be awed and grateful right now.
And that's part of the process, and I know that. Which helps exactly one iota. Cheers.
Transitions are always uncomfortable. There's no way around that, and I knew I was headed into this when I started. Until I've sorted most of it out, my head's going to be full of sandpaper. That makes me irritable, and unable to focus, and I end up with many of the symptoms of depression (namely apathy, lethargy, bad sleep, a dark outlook, and occasional breakdowns). I'm not really functional, which is frustrating... but it can't really be helped. It's just the nature of the game.
My patience is rather thin. I really have to deal with the committee picking out varieties for the Master Gardeners tomato sale next spring, but I got such a bad taste in my mouth at the last meeting that I keep avoiding the issue, even via email. I basically got stomped on, in all of the self-worth spots that are currently raw because they're under construction, and I am not feeling particularly charitable toward the people responsible. The easiest way to avoid raising my blood pressure (and possibly letting loose the hounds of snark, half-accidentally) is to avoid contact... but my input really is needed on this, or else they'll screw up even worse than last year, and I'll be dealing with the consequences in April when my forehead is sore from hitting my desk with it.
Maybe I can try to nail down exactly how many ways my two fellow committee members pissed me off, toss those issues in a jar for later, politely respond, and come up with some resolution to my aggravations between now and when things get underway in January. It might work.
Things are so different here. It feels like I've lost my taste for most of the things I liked around this house, and all that's left is the work and the responsibilities... Come to think of it, I can't come up with anything I really had been looking forward to, other than the relief of getting some of these chores off my back. Tuesday nights, probably, as much work as those often are. Well, and I still enjoy cooking, so that's something. But everything sort of loses its appeal when it's all underlaid by a persistent ache which doesn't go away. I remember that from my days of chronic physical pain. Add in the rest of the malaise and it's not surprising I'd rather just avoid my life for a while.
My shoulders are an utter mess, despite everyone's best efforts, and the combination of aches and pinched nerves isn't helping either. I should leave a note on Dr. J's answering machine.
Oh, yay. Looking over my entry, I guess I've reached the anger phase. I'm going to be a lot of fun for everyone until that passes over (and I guess the coffee I bought for comfort food will have to wait, as decaf still has enough caffeine to amplify my irritability). Maybe I should plead insanity and call off Tuesday, since I'm unlikely to be in any fit state to be around people by then. Heaven help Wayne tomorrow if he's off his game... at least he won't hold it against me if I slip and say something unkind.
Time to find a Project. Something I can attack and pour my frustrations into until the dust clears and I can at least say I've done something. Something with plenty of distractions but enough time spent on routine stuff to let the back of my brain try to clear the backlog. I have a couple of ideas -- but nothing which involves my dad. I think my fuse is a bit too short to work with anybody, especially him.
At least my cat is happy I'm here... she plastered herself to me as soon as I came upstairs, and has been purring blissfully ever since.
I should write something documenting the major and minor headspace shifts I had over the last 30 hours, but that doesn't feel like it's going to happen right here. I'll try to give it a shot later. I'm just too pissed at everything to be awed and grateful right now.
And that's part of the process, and I know that. Which helps exactly one iota. Cheers.
