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Weird mood. Full of tears and woe. (Got back from Whitby, sobbed on Kris's shoulder for 20 minutes for no discernable reason, then straight on a train to London.) Shivering uncontrollably in warm rooms. Paranoia and fear. Overspilling and tainting even the good bits.
(Even the good bits? Weirdest thing is, there's not really any bad bits right now.)
Okay, so drunken tumble down cottage stairs in Whitby, resulting in twisted ankle, is probably a bad bit. Not the first person to do so, and definitely won't be the last, but still leaves me feeling stupid, and fail.
Especially since it messed up all my plans for seeing my brother and his girlfriend in London. Okay, so I made it down there - nothing beats bloodymindedness - but I wanted to take them on adventures, exploring the bits of London I've discovered over the past year. Instead it turned into a game of 'find the place that's the shortest hobble from the tube, with somewhere I can sit down.' They still had a good time, we still got to catch up. But still. Shouldn't matter but it does.
(And am probably going to have to miss exploring York with them tomorrow because ankle has clearly had enough. Stupid. Fail.)
Ankle is actually starting to scare me a bit. Can't be too bad as it's gone down back to almost normal size from when I first twisted it, and can support my weight. But there's some serious bruising and strange numb places on my foot and a toe that doesn't bend properly and all kinds of weird twinges and aches all down my leg and odd queasy feelings if I move suddenly. Not quite worried anough for casualty, but do have doctors appointment on Monday. Just in case.
(Really need to be able to firewalk next Thursday. Matter of principle. Non-negotiable.)
Of course, biggest source of stress/woe/taint/tears right now is stupid stupid stupid worry about total lack of progress on new job front. Which is patently ridiculous. Have only applied for about 10 jobs so far, all within the last week, so it's probably way too early to hear anything. Not that I expected to magically get invited for a dozen interviews straight away. (Well, apart from the insanely optimistic part of me that expects just that.) But even a 'we are afraid you're not right for this job but we will bear you in mind', just to know that I'm on file somewhere, that some recruiter is vaguely aware of my existence. Just one tiny chink from which to start building the kind of relationship I now have with the good recruiters in Leeds. Just something to acknowledge I exist.
(Feel like if I haven't had some kind of positive sign by the time I'm back at work on Monday, no matter how small, I'm going to stab someone. Possibly myself.)
Knowing how ridiculous it is to stress about this right now isn't helping any. Need to find some other kind of distraction to keep me sane for the next few months. Possibly one that doesn't require two working ankles.
(Even the good bits? Weirdest thing is, there's not really any bad bits right now.)
Okay, so drunken tumble down cottage stairs in Whitby, resulting in twisted ankle, is probably a bad bit. Not the first person to do so, and definitely won't be the last, but still leaves me feeling stupid, and fail.
Especially since it messed up all my plans for seeing my brother and his girlfriend in London. Okay, so I made it down there - nothing beats bloodymindedness - but I wanted to take them on adventures, exploring the bits of London I've discovered over the past year. Instead it turned into a game of 'find the place that's the shortest hobble from the tube, with somewhere I can sit down.' They still had a good time, we still got to catch up. But still. Shouldn't matter but it does.
(And am probably going to have to miss exploring York with them tomorrow because ankle has clearly had enough. Stupid. Fail.)
Ankle is actually starting to scare me a bit. Can't be too bad as it's gone down back to almost normal size from when I first twisted it, and can support my weight. But there's some serious bruising and strange numb places on my foot and a toe that doesn't bend properly and all kinds of weird twinges and aches all down my leg and odd queasy feelings if I move suddenly. Not quite worried anough for casualty, but do have doctors appointment on Monday. Just in case.
(Really need to be able to firewalk next Thursday. Matter of principle. Non-negotiable.)
Of course, biggest source of stress/woe/taint/tears right now is stupid stupid stupid worry about total lack of progress on new job front. Which is patently ridiculous. Have only applied for about 10 jobs so far, all within the last week, so it's probably way too early to hear anything. Not that I expected to magically get invited for a dozen interviews straight away. (Well, apart from the insanely optimistic part of me that expects just that.) But even a 'we are afraid you're not right for this job but we will bear you in mind', just to know that I'm on file somewhere, that some recruiter is vaguely aware of my existence. Just one tiny chink from which to start building the kind of relationship I now have with the good recruiters in Leeds. Just something to acknowledge I exist.
(Feel like if I haven't had some kind of positive sign by the time I'm back at work on Monday, no matter how small, I'm going to stab someone. Possibly myself.)
Knowing how ridiculous it is to stress about this right now isn't helping any. Need to find some other kind of distraction to keep me sane for the next few months. Possibly one that doesn't require two working ankles.
